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THE    NATURE   SENSE    IN   THE 
WRITINGS   OF   LUDWIG  TIECK 


BY 

GEORGE  HENRY  DANTON,  A.  B. 


Submit  1  hi.   i.x    i  akhai.  i-ULFii.MENT  of  the  Requirements    for    the 

Deoree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy  in  the  Faculty  of 

Philosophy,  Columbia  University 


NEW  YORK 
1907 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  GERMANIC 
STUDIES 

Edited  by  William    11.  Carpenter    and    Calvin    Thomas 

J'oJ.  I 

No.  I.  SCANDINAVIAN  INFLUENCE  ON  SOUTH- 
ERN LOWLAND  SCOTCH.  A  Contribution  to 
the  Study  of  the  Linguistic  Relations  of  English  and 
Scandinavian.  By  George  Tobias  Flom,  Ph.D. 
8vo,  paper,  pp.  xv  +  82.    Price,  $1.00  net. 

No.  2.  OSSIAN  IN  GERMANY.  Bibliography,  General 
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No.  3.  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  OLD  NORSE  LITERA- 
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78.     Price,  $1.00  net. 

No.  4.  THE  INFLUENCE  OF  INDIA  AND  PERSIA 
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thur F.  J.  Remy,  Ph.D.  8vo,  paper,  pp.  xi  +  81. 
Price,  $1.00  net. 

Vol.  I! 

No.  I.  LAURENCE  STERNE  IN  GERMAN^'.  A  Con- 
tribution to  the  Study  of  the  Literary  Relations  of 
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By  Harvey  Waterman  Thayer,  Ph.D,  8vo,  pa- 
per, pp.  V  +  198.    Price,  $1.00  net. 

No.  2.  TYPES  OF  W^ELTSCHMERZ  IN  GERMAN 
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8vo,  paper,  pp.  v  +  91.     Price,  $1.00  net. 


THE  NATURE  SENSE 
IN  THE  WRITINGS  OF  LUDWIG  TIECK 


THE    NATURE   SENSE    IN   THE 
WRITINGS   OF   LUDWIG  TIECK 


BY 


GEORGE  HENRY  DANTON,  A.  B. 


Submitted  in  Partial  Fulfilment  of  the  Requirements    for    the 

Degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy  in  the  Faculty  of 

Philosophy,   Columbia  University 


NEW  YORK 
1907 


Copyright,    1907 
By   the   COLUMBIA   UNIVERSITY   PRESS 


Printed    from   type   May,    1907 


NOTE 

The  voluminous  writings  of  Ludwig  Tieck,  with  their  great 
variety  of  form  and  substance,  give  a  very  complete  reflex 
of  German  Romanticism.  Almost  every  phase  of  it  is  found 
in  him,  although  no  one  phase,  perhaps,  is  found  at  its  very 
best.  And  one  of  the  most  important  aspects  of  Romanti- 
cism is  its  attitude  toward  nature.  These  considerations 
seemed  to  Mr.  Danton,  and  they  seem  to  me,  to  justify  a 
purely  analytic  study  of  the  nature-sense  in  Tieck,  without 
any  concomitant  attempt  to  trace  the  history  of  the  nature- 
sense  in  earlier  writers,  which  would  have  required  a  bulky 
treatise,  or  to  compare  Tieck  in  detail  with  his  Romantic 
contemporaries,  which  would  have  required  another  treat- 
ise. In  my  opinion,  Mr.  Danton's  work  has  been  done  with 
such  care  and  scholarly  penetration  as  to  form  a  useful  con- 
tribution to  the  study  of  German  Romanticism. 

Calvin  Thomas 

Columbia  University,  March,  1907 


161440 


/  OF  THE    ^ 


PREFACE 

This  dissertation  is  offered  without  apology  to  the  few  who 
will  read  it.  I  am  convinced  that  the  work  was  worth  doing, 
for  though  Tieck's  greatest  merit  is  not  as  a  nature-poet,  his 
nature-sense  is  large  enough  to  admit  of  an  expository  mono- 
graph of  this  character.  There  was  no  great  point  to  be 
proved,  but  a  few  simple  facts  which  made  a  personal  ap- 
peal are  here  set  forth.  Perhaps  they  may  aid  some  other 
investigator  in  the  field. 

The  study  is  of  course  not  exhaustive.  There  is  more  ma- 
terial, some  of  which  is  being  reserved  for  a  future  paper. 

In  the  quotations,  all  the  poetry  has  been  left  untranslated, 
but  the  prose  has  been  turned  into  English,  with  but  two  or 
three  necessary  exceptions. 

I  wish  to  thank  Professor  Kuno  Francke  for  suggesting 
the  subject,  and  for  his  liberal  aid  in  the  early  stages  of  the 
work.  The  dissertation  owes  much  to  Professor  Calvin 
Thomas,  also,  whose  encouragement  and  constructive  critic- 
ism have  been  invaluable.  Professor  O.  F.  Emerson  read 
part  of  the  manuscript  and  gave  many  valuable  hints  as  to 
style,  though  I  feel  that  the  work  leaves  much  to  be  desired 
on  this  score.  I  am  also  grateful  to  Professor  Klee,  the  dis- 
tinguished Tieck  scholar,  to  Mr.  Williams  and  to  Miss  East- 
man of  the  Hatch  Library,  for  valuable  bibliographical  data. 

G.  H.  D. 

Cleveland,  Ohio,  March,  1907 


ANALYTICAL  TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 
Introduction. 

Tieck's  rank  as  a  poet:  his  nature  sense  a  fundamental  part  of 
his  poetic  gift.  Not  truly  interested  in  life  except  in  a  very- 
limited  sphere.  Variance  with  life  does  not  deny  him  poetic 
power.  Poetic  power  manifests  itself  in  lack  of  coherent  doc- 
trine of  nature.  Object  of  present  paper  to  portray  individual 
characteristics  without  attempt  to  find  a  nature  philosophy. 
Because  of  poetic  treatment  by  Tieck,  impossibility  of  chrono- 
logical, genetic  or  comparative  treatment. 

Chapter  One:    The  Temperamental  Attitude. 

The  temperamental  attitude  defined.  Limitations  of  the  term. 
The  chapter  a  contribution  to  the  knowledge  of  Tieck's  per- 
sonality, being  occupied  with  his  spontaneous  reactions  upon 
nature. 

Tieck  not  unobservant.  Peculiarly  morbid  states  combined 
with  common  sense.  Illness  cause  of  inability  to  live  in  natural 
surroundings  like  many  other  poets.  Personal  feeling  for  na- 
ture in  letters,  etc.  Hypochondriac  elements.  Reflection  of 
this  in  works. 

Youthful  delight  in  nature:  seen  in  friendship  with  Wacken- 
roder.  Impressionability  shown  by  effect  of  one  sunrise  in  the 
Harz. 

This  impressionability  brings  real  love ;  real  love  demands 
honesty  of  attitude  and  treatment  in  self  and  others.  Satirizes 
dishonesty  where  found. 

Knew  nature  from  the  March  of  Brandenburg  and  travels: 
Germany  (Harz,  Fichtelgebirge)  Bohemia,  Switzerland.  Italy: 
effect  of  latter. 

Interest  in  gardens  (parks)  like  that  in  specific  yolaces.  No 
utilitarianism  in  attitude  toward  garden  as  in  Nicolai. 
Types  of  garden.  Probable  influence  of  Jacobi.  demands  cer- 
tain artificiality  in  garden:  liked  Italian  j^ardens.  Mystic- 
symbolic  gardens:  "Der  Jahrmarkt."  Giirden  no  boundary 
for  nature  sense.  Limitations  of  best  garden. 
Effort  to  obtain  wide  view  for  self  and  characters.  Sea,  sky, 
mountain  and  plain. 


Descriptive  method  in  such  scenes  logical.  Aspects  of  land- 
scape: fondness  for  pleasant  types.  Causes  of  this  both  physi- 
cal and  traditional. 

Of  various  aspects,  dawn  most  important.  Emphasis  on  color 
elements. 

Moon  not  silver.  Importance  of  moonlight  through  whole  life. 
Black  night  more  decorative:   less  felt. 

Chapter  Two:     The  Philosophical  Attitude. 

The  term  defined.  Its  limitations  as  applied  to  Tieck.  Tieck 
no  philosopher.  Strong  hold  of  both  philosophical  and  religious 
theories  on  him. 

His  feeling  arises  from  his  impressionable  temperament:  vari- 
ous influences  on  him.  Fichte's  egoism  and  its  development  in 
"Abdallah"  and  "William  Lovell."  Egoism  becomes  hedonism 
with  moral  decay. 

Influence  of  Goethe,  Shakespere,  not  concomitant  with  Ticck's 
admiration  for  them.     Influence  of  Boehme  larger.     Shown  in 
Tieck's  ideas  of  origin  of  evil  and  omnipresence  of  God,  etc. 
Belief  in  immanence  of  God   in   Nature  has    three    stages    in 
Tieck : 

I.  Suggestion  of  God  in  nature,  from  nature.  Man  passes 
from  religion  into  nature.  Illustrated  from  "Sternbald"  and 
"Genoveva."     Used  as  poetic  expedient. 

II.  Nature   reveals  God. 

God  not  immediately  present  in  nature  since  human  spirit  is  too 
feeble  t"o  grasp  it.  He  appears  in  phenomena  of  world,  is  near 
in  natural  manifestations. 

III.  Identification   of   God    and    nature. 

Found  all  through  Tieck's  work:  not  necessarily  a  borrowing 
from  Boehme. 

The  idea  very  strong  in  "Abdallah"  where  Tieck  wrestles  with 
it  in  all  forms :  residuum  a  tendency  to  vivid  spiritualization. 
Other  illustrations  of  same  phase. 

Chapter  1?hree:    The   Naturalistic   Interpretations. 

Definitidn  of  term.    Its  limitations. 

Observation,  a  presupposition. 

Large  nature.^ 

The  minute  in^T^ature: 

Tieck's  sympathy  \rith  this:  lack  of  morbid  states. 

Observation    develops    appreciation    which    arises    from    simple 

joy  in  living,  in  motion,  in  generosity  of  nature. 


Resultant  dignity  of  treatment. 

Method  of  appreciation  is  unconsciousness. 

To  enjoy  necessary  to  return  to  nature. 

Tieck  not  a  real  disciple  of  Rousseau,  but  attempted    to    get 

close  to  nature. 

Return  implies  influence: 

Pleasure  in  cheerful  landscape;   the  cheering  power  of  nature. 

Nature   directly   refreshes   and   inspires.     Nature   and   freedom. 

Nature    gives    hope,    uplift,    strength.     The    feeling   rises    to    a 

sense  of  full  accord  with  nature, 

From  nature,   longing  and  melancholy.     Glorification  of   Weh- 

muth.  Effect  of  color  in  this  connection.  Direct  education 
of  nature  not  stressed.     External  and  satiric  expressions. 

—  -      Interrelation  of  man  and  nature.     Mutual  influence.    The  effect 

of  various  specific  phases. 

Morning  both  time  for  rejoicing  and  sorrow.     Parallelism  for 
evening:  sorrow  grows  with  falling  night. 
Relation  of  love  to  night. 

Forest:  importance.  All  phases.  IValdeinsamkeit  a  constant 
note.  Love  of  forest  in  Tieck's  characters.  Statistics  of  oc- 
currence of  forest  scenes  in  dramas. 

Chapter  Four:   The  Mystic  and   Symbolic  Interpretations. 

Ground  covered  by  the  chapter. 

Desolate  nature  as  a  background  for  event's  in  harmony  with 
the  scene.  Murders  occur  in  storm  and  rain. 
Reaction  on  man's  spirit  of  such  scenes.  Reflex  in  metaphors 
dealing  with  life.  Conventionality  in  description  of  these  due 
to  historical  causes.  Keynote  in  this,  revolt  and  oppression. 
Also:  joy  in  storm  and  courage  from  wilder  aspects  of  nature. 
Note :  vivifying  effect  on  nature  of  storm. 
Contrast  of  nature  with  feelings. 

Love  and  nature.  Symbolism.  Love  that  human  emotion  most 
bound  up  with  nature  and  most  subject  to  varying  interpreta- 
tion.   Tieck  not  alone  in  this  symbolism.     Spring  love's  season : 

—  hence  importance  of  spring  in  Tieck.     Spring  season  of  long- 
ing: same  note  in  Tieck's  poetry. 

The  Vorfriihling  and  its  causes. 

Spring  a  real  experience  with  Tieck.  Vividness  and  reality  in 
description.  Personification.  Two  notes  in  spring:  love  and 
regret.  Latter  brought  by  change  of  seasons.  Parallelism  of 
seasons  and  emotions.     Pessimism  of  early  works. 

—  Rose  the  flower  of  spring. 


Other  flowers  of  minor  importance.  Overwhelming  signifi- 
cance of  rose  as  symbol  of  sex  passion.  Personification  of 
rose. 

Power   of   love   over   nature.      Poetic  expression   in    metaphor. 
Sense  of  loved  one  in  nature. 
Other  sex  symbols  in  nature.     Nature  a  woman. 
Other  animistic  developments : 
Nature  has  physical  qualities   (sight,  hearing). 
Nature  has  mental  qualities   (will,  memory). 
Hostility  and  friendship  of  nature. 

The   general   demonic    fatalism    in    the    nature    phenomena    of 
Tieck. 
Progress  away  from  early  morbidness  and  pessimism. 


THE  NATURE  SENSE 
IN  THE  WRITINGS  OF  LUDWIG  TIECK 


INTRODUCTION. 

When  Tieck  remarked  in  his  "Kritische  Schriften,"  that  it 
is  allowable  to  treat  the  poet's  work  only  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  poet,  that  is,  to  treat  him  as  a  whole,  he  felt  that 
there  is  a  divinity  that  hedges  the  poet  as  well  as  the  king. 
It  is  by  reason  of  this  divinity  that  one  approaches  with  a 
certain  diffidence  a  theme  which  subjects  a  minute  portion  of 
a  poet's  work  to  microscopic  examination,  especially  when 
that  poet  is  in  his  entirety  not  known  to  the  present  public. 
Tieck,  a  man  of  importance  in  his  day,  never  appealed  univer- 
sally to  the  masses  even  in  Germany,  and  so  rays  of  culture 
from  him  have  not  penetrated  the  general  gloom  of  Philistin- 
ism. There  is  no  burning  curiosity  to  know  more  about  him 
in  the  present  generation. 

The  "poet-soul,"  wherever  found  and  however  insignificant 
in  scope,  deserves  the  most  careful  consideration ;  Tieck,  with 
all  the  elements  that  go  to  make  the  true  poet,  is  worthy  of 
any  hint  that  may  make  him  better  understood.  However 
his  verses  may  jingle,  and  whatever  of  undue  raisonnement 
there  is  in  his  later  novelettes,  he  had  true  creative  impulses 
which  make  his  work  significant  of  at  least  one  not  unimpor- 
tant side  of  humanity.  That  he  is  historically  significant,  no 
one  will  deny ;  but  the  merely  historical  does  not  maintain  in- 
terest in  a  living  age. 

Unfortunately  Tieck  was  not  interested  in  life.  The  main 
elements  of  his  work  are  poetry  and  art.  He  felt  the  indefi- 
nite pains  of  an  unreal  existence,  and  had  a  certain  blindness 
toward  the  great  problems  of  the  world  and  something  of 
that  Don  Quixote  who  meant  so  much  to  him.  He  dealt  too 
much  with  abstractions  even  for  Germans,  among  whom  ab- 
stractions have  a  value  not  understood  by  more  practical  for- 
eigners. 


In  his  youth,  when  his  genius  was  recognized,  he  was  able 
to  rise  in  his  playful  wrath  and,  with  many  a  jesting  whirl  of 
his  sling,  cast  a  pebble  at  the  cumbersome  giant  of  "enlighten- 
ment." But  he  never  outgrew  these  youthful  ideals,  and  as 
time  goes  on,  his  work  fails  to  gain  in  import  and  breadth. 
One  feels  that  he  does  not  know  life,  that  he  has  not  observed 
closely  and  that  he  cannot  characterize  it.  His  personages 
run  together;  they  become  lay-figures  upon  which  to  drape 
costumes,  or  they  suggest  dummies  in  the  hands  of  a  ven- 
triloquist. What  still  breathed  in  his  youth  was  petrified  in 
his  maturer  years.  Literature  for  its  own  sake  grew  to  have 
a  value  for  him  apart  from  its  relation  to  life  and  to  the  hu- 
man soul,  and  just  in  proportion  as  he  failed  to  make  life  his 
standard,  so  he  is  neglected  by  a  living  generation.  In  days 
when  life  is  of  eager  interest,  when  the  world  throbs  with 
thought,  and  when  action  pulses  through  all  the  veins  of  the 
earth,  the  human  mind  refuses  to  dwell  on  bygone  literary 
squabbles,  to  drowse  over  criticism  of  authors  long  ago  accept- 
ed or  forgotten,  and  to  waste  efifort  in  understanding  the  po- 
lemics of  a  bygone  century.  Tieck  was  conscious  of  the  de- 
mands upon  the  creative  artist  and  cried  out  to  his  biographer, 
"One  must  have  lived  it," '  but  he  lived  in  an  inner  world, 
was  distinctly  a  literary  man  and  so  fails  today  of  even  a  just 
appreciation. 

This  variance  with  life  is  seen  as  poetry  in  such  works  as 
"Genoveva"  and  "Kaiser  Octavianus"  and  as  irony  in  Tieck's 
satirical  dramas.  As  he  grew  older,  it  manifested  itself  more 
and  more  formally  in  his  novelettes  and  critical  writings,  and 
culminated  in  a  certain  retroactive  conservatism  which  is  an- 
tagonistic to  Young  Germany,  republicanisjn  and  French 
Romanticism,  as  types  of  noxious  innovation. 

Tieck  was  a  poet,  and  because  of  the  presence  of  the  poetic 
in  his  works,  there  is  a  continual  ^difficulty  in  treating  of  his 
nature-sense.     His  inspiration  and  his  moods  guided  him  in 

'Rudolf  Kopke,  Ludwig  Tieck.  Erinnerungen  aus  dem  Leben  des 
Dichters.  Leipzig,  1855.  II.  p.  150.  Referred  to  hereafter  as  Kopke.  The 
work  IS  sympathetic  but  not  entirely  adequate. 


his  choice  of  themes,  and  he  made  no  attempt  at  coherency  of 
doctrine  or  even  at  consistency  of  attitude  toward  nature.  He 
was  driven  by  the  tempests  of  his  imagination  from  phase  to 
phase,  and  so  one  is  finally  compelled  to  follow  as  through  a 
trackless  waste,  guided  as  much  by  instinct  as  was  he  him- 
self. From  this  it  may  be  seen  that  to  trace  his  course  chron- 
ologically through  work  after  work  is  of  little  avail,  if  indeed  it 
were  possible.  Great  desert  areas  in  his  writings  mean  noth- 
ing ;  now  and  again  there  is  an  oasis,  while  often  the  progress 
is  through  the  most  luxuriant  growth  rich  in  suggestion  and 
inspiration.  Even  an  examination  of  these  fertile  fields  fails 
to  show  any  especial  sequence  in  his  development  except  such 
as  any  man  growing  to  be  very  old  would  naturally  exem- 
plify. He  remained  from  first  to  last  instinctive  and  emo- 
tional, and  however  doctrinaire  he  became  in  other  fields,  he 
developed  nodoctrine  of  nature. 

Nor  can  the  treatment  be  genetic.  The  poet  combines  from 
all  spheres,  drawing  and  selecting  from  each  that  which  he 
needs  for  the  moment,  but  it  is  his  transmuting  power  which 
makes  him  a  poet  and  places  his  real  significance  beyond  the 
dissecting  knife  of  the  historical  critic.  During  all  his  life 
Tieck  read  and  absorbed,  but  this  absorption  is  always,  as 
far  as  the  specific  sources  are  concerned,  of  minor  moment 
when  compared  to  the  portion  which  he  himself  took  from  a 
first-hand  feeling  for  nature.  After  all  it  is  immaterial,  ex- 
cept from  the  Tiistorical  standpoint,  whether  a  certain  idea  is 
derived  from  a  prototype  or  whether  it  comes  from  direct  ob- 
servation and  personal  feeling.  The  important  thing  is  to  see 
how  the  individual  poet  treated  it,  and  what  form  his  individual 
moulding  of  the  thought  has  taken ;  and  so,  unless  the  origin 
of  the  idea  seemed  to  throw  light  on  the  subsequent  develop- 
ment of  Tieck's  mind,  historical  data  have  not  been  presented. 

Neither  has  the  aim  been  to  compare  Tieck  with  his  prede- 
cessors or  contemporaries,  nor  to  indicate  any  possible  influ- 
ence on  succeeding  generations.  Much  of  his  work  is  based 
on  the  past  and  he  shows  various  individual  differences  from 


I 


the  other  poets;  a  portion,  if  perhaps  no  very  great  one,  has 
become  the  unearned  increment  of  the  future,  but  to  have 
compared  him  with  Haller  or  Goethe,  with  Shelley  or  Words- 
worth, with  Victor  Hugo  or  Emerson,  would  have  meant  to 
write  a  history  of  all  poetry  and  to  write  it  with  all  the  inward- 
ness of  all  the  poets.  For  the  nature-sense  is  fin-ally  the  poet 
himself;  it  is  his  life  and  his  bemg,  and  the  most  common 
man  rises  by  his  feeling  toward  nature  to  a  creative  height, 
while  no  poet  worthy  of  the  name  has  ever  been  without  a 
deep  and  lasting  sense  of  close  sympathy  with  the  impinging 
universe. 


CHAPTER  ONE 

TIECK'S  TEMPERAMENTAL    ATTITUDE    TOWARD 

NATURE 

A  discussion  of  Tieck's  temperamental  attitude  toward  na- 
ture should  reveal  the  nature-sense  in  its  relation  to  the 
personality  of  the  man.  It  should  discover  in  how  far  his 
environment  unconsciously  influenced  him,  and  how  he  ex- 
pressed this  influence  unconsciously  and  independently  of  all 
theory  or  dogma.  The  chapter  should  to  a  certain  extent  con- 
tribute to  the  inner  biography  of  the  man.  It  implies  an  in- 
terpretation of  his  reflexes  as  well  as  a  mere  detailing  of  the 
external  circumstances  under  which  they  were  produced.  In 
the  main  it  is  a  discussion  of  the  natural  man  living  in  nature. 
His  human  self,  untrammeled  by  any  conceptual  considera- 
tion, expresses  its  feelings  instinctively  and  is  the  primary 
object.  From  this  the  discussion  legitimately  turns  to 
those  selections  on  the  part  of  the  poet  which  are  most  charac- 
teristic. Certain  apperceptions  of  thought  must  enter  in,  be- 
cause the  temperament,  the  instinct,  cannot  be  entirely  sepa- 
rated from  the  ideas  and  the  intellect;  but  as  a  whole  all  re- 
actions on  the  material  that  are  conscious,  and  all  use  of  nature 
to  illustrate  any  formulae,  are  deferred  to  a  future  chapter. 

Tieck's  apartness  from  life  and  action  does  not  preclude  a 
power  of  observation  both  subtle  and  keen.  His  ability  to 
see  is  attested  by  his  wit,  although  too  often  he  chose  to  see  a 
rather  minor  thing.  He  had,  moreover,  as  an  individual  gift 
a  definite  and  in  some  ways  mystifying  personality,  vv^hich  in 
forms  of  literary  expression  becomes  a  large  and  wonderful 
fantasy.  It  is  this  which  keeps  him  in  the  circle  of  the  greater 
creative  poets,  giving  to  his  purely  poetic  work  a  value  equal 
in  its  sphere  to  his  critical  dicta,  and  justifying  for  him  the 


title  of  the  poet  of  the  earlier  Romantic  School.  There  is  a 
dualism  in  his  personality  which  arises  from  a  curious  com- 
bination of  pathological  states  with  what  Haym'  calls  sound 
common  sense;  just  that,  in  other  words,  to  which  the  roman- 
tic poets  always  felt  themselves  superior.  Tieck's  life  was 
filled  with  dreams  and  visions:'  his  world  often  seems  to  be 
apart  from  that  of  other  mortals,  and  deep  within  him  there 
was  such  a  wealth  of  creative  fancy  as  to  make  all  nature  alive 
about  him. 

His  life  was  attended  on  its  external  side  by  intense  physi- 
cal suffering,  melancholy,  depression  and  morbidness,  and  he 
is  hardly  ever  represented  as  enjoying  so  fully  the  vigor 
of  the  elements  as  did  Byron,  Wordsworth  or  Goethe.  Gout 
attacked  him  early  in  life  and  continued  with  him  till  his 
death.  His  letters  to  Solger  are  filled  with  warnings  against 
colds  and  with  complaints  and  woes.  He  says  that  the  equi- 
noxes are  dangerous  times,  and  that  he  loathes  the  dampness 
and  changing  weather  which  cause  him  to  feel  indisposed.  He 
urges  his  friend  not  to  disregard  the  dangers  of  exposure  to 
the  inclemency  of  the  elements."  Dorothea  Tieck's  reports 
about  her  father  in  her  interesting  correspondence  with  Uech- 
tritz  are  mainly  concerning  his  physical  condition.*  Tieck's 
later  journeys  grew  to  be  mere  searches  after  health.  His 
home  interests  were  those  of  his  circle  of  friends,  of  his  read- 
ings, of  his  Shakespere  and  his  Goethe.'  A  healthy  growing 
old  with  nature  cannot,  then,  be  expected,  but  rather  an  in- 

'R.  Haym,  Die  Romantische  Schule,  Berlin,  1870.  p.  862. 

^Solger's  Nachgelassene  Schriften  tind  Briefwechsel,  herausgegeben 
von  L.  Tieck  und  F.  v.  Raumer,  2  Bde.  Leipzig,  1826.  p.  390.  Vide, 
Holtei,  300  Briefe  aits  2  Jahrhunderten,  p.  46,  for  an  account  of  a  re- 
markable fit  of  madness  after  reading  from  4  p.  m.  to  2  a.  m.  in 
Grosse's  "Genius."  Also  L.  H.  Fischer,  Aus  Berlins  Vergangenheit. 
On  the  human  side  this  fantasy  is  to  be  connected  with  his  power  of 
mimicry.  He  speaks  in  a  letter  to  Bernhardi  (Aus  Varnhagens  Nach- 
lass,  p.  198)  of  being  affected  to  madness  by  nature. 

'Solger,  303,  429,  621. 

*Von  Sybel,  Erinnerungen  an  Fried,  v.  Uechtritz,  Leipzig,  1884,  p.  166. 
Cf.  Schriften  der  Goethe  Ge.sellschaft,  XIIL  381-2,  and  the  introduc- 
tion to  the  volume,  sub  Tieck,     Solger,  486. 

'Tieck,  Kritische  Schriften,  Leipzig,  1848,  p.  141,  159:  Poems,  third 
ed.     Berlin,  1841.  p.  280,  and  Grillparzer,  fifth  Gotta  ed.  vol.  III..  148. 


creasing  aloofness  from  her.  Yet  in  spite  of  this  hypochon- 
driac attitude  in  his  Hfe,  it  must  be  said  that  his  works  show 
neither  a  cessation,  nor  hardly  a  proportionate  abatement  of 
a  living  feeling  for  nature. 

In  the  earlier  and  most  romantic  works  the  nature-sense 
has  of  course  a  larger  expression,  for  as  a  young  man  Tieck 
reveled  in  the  beauty  of  natural  scenery.  His  letters  to  Wack- 
enroder  ^  breathe  a  joy  in  the  garden,  the  moonlight  and  the 
sunlight ;  he  gives  as  one  reason  for  not  wishing  to  leave  Halle 
the  desire  to  continue  in  such  lovely  surroundings.  In  a  let- 
ter of  June  3,  1792,  he  exclaims  on  the  beauty  of  the  evening. 
Speaking  of  another  of  his  letters,  Wackenroder  says  that 
there  hovers  over  it  all  a  sort  of  soft,  beautiful  and  cheerful 
spirit  of  happiness  which  the  enjoyment  of  nature  had  instilled 
into  it,  and  urges  his  friend  to  remain  in  this  mood,  in  order, 
probably,  to  prevent  any  of  the  morbid  attacks  to  which 
Tieck  was  subject  from  getting  the  upper  hand.*  Indeed, 
Tieck's  whole  attitude  toward  the  world  at  this  time  may  be 
summed  up  in  his  own  words,  "It  is  feeling,  not  thought." ' 

To  illustrate  forcibly  the  effect  of  nature  on  Tieck  as  a 
young  man,  part  of  a  letter  given  by  Friesen  may  be  quoted.* 
This  describes  the  effect  of  a  mountain  scene  while  the  poet 
was  making  a  trip  through  the  Harz  in  June,  1792.  Friesen  re- 
marks with  justice  that  the  impression  on  the  dweller  in  the 
plains  can  never  be  realized  by  one  who  has  always  been  ac- 
customed to  a  more  rugged  environment.  It  was  on  this  oc- 
casion that  Tieck  saw  a  sunrise  which  accompanied  his  whole 
life  as  a  vision ;  he  often  tried  to  repeat  the  actual  experience 
of  this  moment,  but  was  never  able.     Friesen,  who  was  not 

^In  300  Briefe. 

'Holtei.  Briefe  an  Liidwig  Tieck,  Breslau,  1864,  IV.,  172.  The  letter 
is  dated  May  5.  Tieck's  first  letter  in  the  300  Briefe  is  dated  May  10, 
so  that  Wackenroder's  must  be  in  answer  to  one  unpublished;  no 
doubt  to  the  one  mentioned  by  Tieck  on  p.  28  of  300  Briefe. 

'300  Bfe.,  129. 

*H.  von  Friesen,  Ludwij?  Tieck,  Erinnerungen  eines  alten  Freundes, 
Wien,  1871.  II..  136  ff.  Cf.  Kopke,  I.,  142. 


8 

satisfied  with  Kopke's  account,  quotes  the  following  late  letter 
of  Tieck: 

"It  was  in  the  first  year  of  my  university  days  in  Halle  in 
I  1792,  that  I  took  a  trip  to  see  a  friend  who  had  invited  me  to 
visit  him  in  the  Harz.  I  had  never  seen  a  mountain,  and  so 
everything  was  new,  cheering  and  inspiring.  It  was  the  time 
of  the  summer  solstice  when  I  started  out.  I  had  not  slept 
the  night  before,  but  had  written  letters.  When  I  saw  Eisle- 
ben,  I  was  overwhelmed  by  the  beauty  of  its  situation,  by  the 
fields  and  meadows  and  by  the  fruit,  which  was  almost  ripe. 
I  traveled  on  foot  through  the  little  town  of  Hettstadt,  where  I 
witnessed  the  burial  of  a  miner.  As  it  grew  dark,  I  came  to 
a  wood  where  some  young  people  had  gathered  and  were 
singing  joyfully.  They  decorated  me  with  garlands,  as  was 
the  custom  of  the  place.  I  had  let  the  long  day  pass  lazily 
by  in  my  observations  of  nature,  and  now  I  came  to  an  inn 
situated  somewhat  farther  up  the  mountain,  and  from  this, 
light,  music  and  dancing  streamed  out  to  meet  me.  It  was 
quite  dark  when  I  entered,  rejoicing  in  the  noisy  festivities; 
I  took  a  room  the  door  of  which  I  left  open  in  order  to  enjoy 
at  first  hand  the  frolic  and  confusion.  The  young  folks  were 
pleased  at  my  participation,  and  so  another  night  passed  with- 
out slumber.  When  it  got  a  bit  more  quiet  in  the  general  room, 
I  paid  my  bill.  I  went  on  through  a  pretty  meadow  path 
and  climbed  a  few  hills.  Soon  the  sun  rose.  But  what  words 
are  sufficient  to  describe  this  scene  even  feebly,  the  miracle, 
the  phenomenon  which  greeted  me  and  transformed  my  soul, 
my  inner  being,  all  my  forces,  and  which  led  me  involuntarily 
to  something  divinely  great  and  ineffable?  A  nameless  de- 
light took  hold  of  my  whole  being.  I  trembled  and  a  stream 
of  tears  flowed  from  my  eyes  with  such  inner  emotion  as  I 
had  never  felt  before.  I  had  to  stand  still  to  experience  this 
vision  thoroughly,  and  as  my  heart  trembled  in  the  greatest  joy, 
it  seemed  absolutely  as  if  a  second  happy  loving  heart  were 
really  beating  on  mine.  As  I  have  said  this  was  the 
most  important  moment  in  my  life;  I  could  not  help  weeping 


for  joy.  I  cannot  tell  how  long  the  intoxication  of  the  mo- 
ment lasted.  *  *  *  I  am  eighty  years  old  now,  and  still 
the  recollection  of  this  moment  is  the  most  wonderful  and  most 
enigmatic  of  my  whole  long  life." 

Tieck  goes  on  to  say  that  he  regards  himself  as  highly  for- 
tunate to  have  had  this  experience  and  there  is  no  doubt  that 
he  is  referring  to  the  same  event  where  in  "Phantasus"  *  he 
says  that  one  can  have  the  good  fortune  only  two  or  three  times 
in  one's  life  really  to  see  a  sunrise:  this  experience  does  not 
touch  a  man  lightly,  but  makes  an  epoch  in  his  life,  and  a  long 
time  is  required  to  recover  from  its  effects,  while  many  fu- 
ture years  subsist  on  its  recollection. 

It  is  very  evident,  then,  that  if  Tieck  himself  was  so  deeply 
moved  by  nature,  if  he  felt  it  with  such  inner  emotion,  he 
will  manifest  absolute  honesty  of  feeling.  As  he  says  in  one 
of  his  poems,  "Nie  hab'  ich  Lust,  nie  Schmerzen  mir  erlogen",'  / 
and  he  demands  this  same  honesty  of  attitude  in  others,  and  * 
expects  from  each  some  poetic  power  in  the  treatment  of  na- 
ture; where  he  does  not  find  these  he  is  satirical  or  angry. 
The  earliest  evidence  of  this  feeling  is  in  "Das  Reh,"*  where 
the  minister  and  his  servant  discuss  nature  humorously  and 
in  a  manner  which  brings  to  mind  the  later  conversations  in 
"Zerbino"  between  Nestor  and  the  hero.  In  "Das  Reh"  the 
sentimental  servant  notices  nature  but  the  minister  will  have 
none  of  it  and  exclaims  in  disgust :  "O  pshaw !  How  could  I 
take  any  pleasure  in  a  golden  cloud?  Just  as  if  I  could  take 
pleasure  in  the  shadow  of  a  wine  bottle  or  at  the  jingle  of  gold- 
pieces  !" 

The  obtuseness  to  nature  which  characterizes  both  Nestor   • 
and  Zerbino  may  well  be  compared  with  a  passage  like  this, 
though  in  the  later  work  the  note  is  rather  that  of  literary  sa- 
tire, as  it  is  also  in  "Peter  Lebrecht,"  *  where  the  Ritterromane 

'Schriften,  Berlin.  1828  ff.,  IV.,  128.  In  both  notes  and  text  Roman 
numerals  will  be  used  to  indicate  volumes  of  the  "Schriften"  in  the 
standard  edition  of  1828  ff.  N.  S.  will  mean  literary  remains,  K.  S., 
critical  works.     See  bibliography. 

^Third  edition,  Berlin,  1841,  p.  355.  Referred  to  hereafter  as  Poem*?. 
^N.  S.  29. *XIV..  163,  164. 


(" 


lO 

receive  a  thrust  from  this  point  of  view.  Adam's  book  of 
travel  (in  "Kaiser  Octavianus"),  with  its  thorough  banality, 
brings  Nicolai  at  once  to  mind/  as  does  Murner's  work  on 
travel  in  "Herr  von  Fuchs."  *  In  "Der  gestiefelte  Kater"  *  a 
false  nature  sense  is  one  of  the  many  points  ridiculed.  In  "Der 
Naturfreund"  Tieck  gives  vent  to  his  contempt  for  people  who 
consciously  try  to  gain  a  thrill  from  nature,  and  shows  with 
malicious  humor,  how  the  councillor  takes  the  greatest  pains 
to  miss  no  mountain  or  hut  on  his  way,  in  order  that  he  may 
lose  none  of  the  beauties  of  the  scenery.  Long  before  his  des- 
tination is  reached,  he  falls  asleep,  and  upon  his  arrival  at  the 
watering-place,  spends  most  of  his  time  at  the  card-table  in 
utter  disregard  of  his  environment. 

Tieck's  personal  disgust  at  Naturjdger  is  found  consci- 
ously expressed  in  one  of  the  conversations  in  "Phantasus" 
where  he  says:  *'I  mean  those  folks  who  make  a  regular  hunt 
for  sunrises  and  sunsets  from  high  mountains,  or  who  chase 
waterfalls  and  other  natural  phenomena  and  so  spoil  many  a 
morning  for  themselves  and  others  in  order  to  wait  for  a 
pleasure  which  very  often  does  not  come  and  which  they  after- 
wards must  feign.  These  people  treat  nature  just  as  they  con- 
sort with  men  of  note;  they  run  into  their  houses  and  stand 
opposite  them:  well,  there  they  are  at  last  at  the  famous  and 
oft-mentioned  place,  and  if  nothing  takes  place  in  their  souls, 
at  least  they  can  afterwards  say  that  they  have  been  there. 
Tieck  had  not  forgotten  these  people  when  he  wrote  "Der 
Mondsiichtige,"  as  the  subjoined  passage  shows:*  "O  these 
travelers !  This  horde  of  gaping  English  and  Germans.  Most 
of  them  can  see  nature  only  as  a  mere  crude  decoration ;  they 
sleep,  are  bored,  until  the  proper  moment  is  announced  to 
them  by  their  guide  or  guide-book.  These  people  experience 
no  nature ;  for  them  she  does  not  exist,  and  the  pleasure  that 
they  take  in  her  is  like  that  of  the  cafe  or  the  ice-cream  parlor." 
Such  attitudinizing  is  not  unknown  at  the  present  time,  and 

n..  148. ^»XII.,  43. ^V.,  181,  259. ^XXL,  123. 


II 


brings  to  mind  the  remark  of  Emerson  that  when  men  begin 
to  write  about  nature  they  at  once  fall  into  euphuism. 

The  words  of  old  Martin  in  "Peter  Lebrecht"^  give  another 
side  glance  at  the  literary  aspect  of  the  matter.  He  scolds 
at  books  which,  by  an  over-stimulated  and  false  presentation 
of  the  simple  life,  tend  to  inculcate  wrong  ideas,  both  as  to 
existing  conditions  and  as  to  the  influence  of  nature  on  man. 
He  goes  on  to  say:  **It  is  the  greater  art  to  portray  everything 
natural  in  a  natural  manner  and  yet  to  wrap  one  so  in  sun- 
shine that  one  sees  only  that  which  one  should  see,  and  then 
each  tree  is  dyed  as  with  a  new  green.  Few  have  succeeded 
in  that." 

Several  of  Tieck's  characters  despise  or  affect  to  despise 
nature.  These  are  all  satirically  given ;  as,  for  example,  the 
Pfarrer  in  ''Die  Reisenden" '  who  scoffs  at  nature,  a  word 
which  has,  he  says,  come  into  vog^e  some  forty  years  since, 
and  by  which  folks  mean  "einen  etwanigen  Bach  oder  Fluss 
sammt  Berg  und  Steingeschichten,  oder  die  Waldsachen  und 
dergleichen.  Hat  mich  nie  sonderlich  interessiert."  Another 
Pfarrer  in  ''Der  Jahrmarkt'"  finds  in  the  midst  of  some 
commonplaces,  nothing  more  unnatural  than  so-called  nature. 
The  old  miner  in  "Der  Alte  vom  Berge",*  who  understands  his 
mountain  as  part  of  his  trade,  exclaims:  "Nature,  that's  such 
a  stupid  word."  Finally  in  'Tier  junge  Tischlermeister," '  the 
insane  old  man  reviles  Leonard's  love  of  nature  with  much 
sarcasm  and  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  the  preceding, 
when  he  says  that  God  will  certainly  be  satisfied  with  crea- 
tion now  that  Leonard  has  loked  into  it  and  admired  it. 

Tieck's  first  impressions  of  nature  were  from  the  March  of 
Brandenburg,  for  he  was  born  in  Berlin — in  May,  1773 — and 
lived  there  until  he  began  his  university  career  some  nineteen 
years  later.  He  seems  to  have  felt  a  certain  early  dislike  for 
his  native  city,'  but  the  March  itself  had  a  very  strong  hold  on 
him.     So  Italy  recalls  it  to  his  mind  as  he  sees  a  solitary  pine 

^XV.,  29. =XVII.,  215. 'XX.,  59. *XXIV.,  189. 'XXVIII., 

412. ^"In  a  letter  to  Bernhardi  from  Erlangen  at  Whitsuntide,  1793.' 

Varnhagens  Nachlass,  p.  189.     Cf.  204,  213,  221. 


12 

on  the  shores  of  the  Lago  Maggiore;^  the  last  Hne  of  the 
passage,  "Daheim  in  meiner  Mark"  is  significant  from  the  use 
of  "meiner"  and  in  his  whole  conception  of  the  sadness  of 
that  country.  Another  passage^  touches  on  the  same  idea, 
when  in  Bozen  he  meets  a  strict  anti-Catholic  of  the  kind,  as 
he  says,  that  he  supposed  only  the  sand  and  firs  of  his  native 
land  produced.  The  novelette,  "Die  Gesellschaft  auf  dem 
Lande"  ^  opens  with  a  remark  that  shows  him  even  more  dis- 
posed to  appreciate  the  scene  in  his  native  province :  " . .  auch 
im  Brandenburgischen  Lande  giebt  es  sclione  Naturgemalde, 
wenn  man  sie  nur  aufzusuchen  versteht."  Though  he  cared  for 
the  March  and  understood  it,  it  is  evident,  in  the  main,  that 
this  child  of  an  unpicturesque  land  lets  his  fancy  roam  out  over 
all  Germany,  which  he  claims  to  have  regarded  as  the  true 
fatherland  before  any  of  his  contemporaries.* 

While  on  the  whole  Tieck's  life  was  a  quiet  one,  it  may  be 
said  that  like  his  heroes,  he  traveled.  He  had  the  opportunity 
to  see  a  very  lar^e  part  of  Germany,  from  Hamburg  to 
Munich  and  from  the  extreme  east  to  the  Rhine  and 
Switzerland.  He  also  went  to  Italy  and  England.  Na- 
turally enough,  the  expression  of  his  feelings  on  these  jour- 
neys is  varied,  and  ranges  from  the  simple  joy  of  motion  and 
delight  in  the  newness  of  things,  through  the  hypochondria  of 
many  of  his  Italian  poems,  to  a  practically  complete  silence 
with  regard  to  his  English  experiences.' 

A  letter  to  Bernhardi  contains  one  of  the  fullest  accounts 
given  by  Tieck  of  any  of  his  journeys.    He  reports  on  his  trip 

'Poems,  333.-^ — =^Ibid.,  220. 

'XXIV.,  393.  For  the  "muses  and  graces  of  the  March"  who  never 
progressed  bey;ond  copying  its  ugly  details,  Tieck  had  no  use.  Kr.  Sch. 
L,  81.  The  same  thing  is  satirized  in  "Zerbino,"  X.,  320.  Cf.  Goethe's 
poem  "Musen  und  Grazien  in  der  Mark''  and  the  introduction  to  Gei- 
ger's  reprint  of  F.  W.  A.  Schmidt's  Poems  under  this  title,  Berlin,  1889, 
pages  3-4. 

^Letters  to  Solger,  269,  393,  553.  Kopke,  XL,  172.  Hettner,  Die 
romantische  Schule  u.  s.  w.  145-148.  "Dichterleben"'  (XVII.,  67) 
"The  love  of  country  is-  a  refined  and  educated  nature  sense,  an  instinct 
developed  to  noble  consciousness."     Cf.  Klee's  ed.  II..  215. 

"Cf.  Brandes,  Die  romantische  Schule  in  Deutschland,  Leipzig.  '92, 
p.   122.     Brandes  blames  Tieck  for  his  attitude. 


13 

from  Erlangen  through  the  Fichtelgebirge  and  back  to  his  uni- 
versity town,  and  tells  of  his  visits  to  people,  his  dinners  at 
their  houses,  of  his  descent  into  the  depth  of  mines  and  of  the 
thousand  allotria  of  such  an  expedition.  It  is  pleasing  to  note 
that  he  had  all  the  young  daring  of  his  age,  and  many  of  its 
enthusiasms;  he  gallops  his  horse  over  dangerous  places, 
climbs  hills  on  the  steepest  side,  and  in  general  gains  all  the 
good  from  the  trip  that  was  to  be  had.  Of  quiet  description 
there  is  but  little ;  his  favorite  spots  were  Berneck,  which  be- 
came the  scene  of  his  play  "Karl  von  Berneck,"  and  Culmbach, 
and  he  joins  them  to  the  Rosstrappe  in  the  Harz  as  the  finest 
places  that  he  had  as  yet  seen.  (Varnhagen's  Nachlass,  234.) 
The  memory  of  another  trip,  this  time  through  Bohemia,  in 
1803,  is  perpetuated  in  "Eine  Sommerreise"  thirty  years  later, 
and  in  echoes  in  "Der  junge  Tischlermeister."  *  So,  for  in- 
stance, he  mentions  the  dreary  landscape  between  Frankfort 
on  the  Oder  and  Crossen,  a  region  with  which,  from  his  long 
residence  in  Ziebingen,  he  must  have  been  reasonably  familiar. 
Lusatia,  where  nature  is  greener  and  friendlier,  and  "das 
liebliche  Dresden",  which  he  knew  and  loved  so  well,  are  men- 
tioned. Here  the  landscape  is  neither  sublime,  of  earnest 
mien  nor  solemn,  and  none  of  those  voices  are  heard  that  one 
hears  in  the  mountains ;  but  it  is  none  the  less  habitable  for  all 
that.  Pirna,  Giesshiibel  and  Liebenstein  are  passed  over 
lightly,  and  Weimar  with  its  recollections  of  Goethe  was  sa- 
cred to  him.*  In  this  novelette  two  enthusiasts  fight  a  duel 
over  the  respective  merits  of  Teplitz  and  Carlsbad.'  Wunsiedel 
with  its  "'baroque  form,"  *  brings  to  mind  the  mention  of  this 
town  in  "Der  Mondsiichtige,"  '  where  Tieck  compares  it  to  the 
works  of  Jean  Paul,  whose  birthplace  it  was — fragmentary, 
but  at  times  highly  poetic.  Later  on  he  gives  to  the  place  the 
epithet  "finsteres  Nest."" 

^Kopke,  L,  307,  IL,  152.    "Eine  Sommerreise,"  XXIIL,  7,  15,  22,  25. 

^XXIII.,   130.     The  novelette   was   written   shortly  after   Goethe's 

death,  when  any  mention  of  him  would  be  timely.     Cf.   for  the  same 
attitude  toward  Weimar,  Grillparzer,  5th  Cotta  edition,  and  III..  224, 

Grillparzer  Jahrbuch,    I.,   267. 'XXIIL,   42. ^*Ibid.,   45. 'XXI., 

78. ^"XXVIIL.  22. 


14 

Switzerland  is  described  in  "Der  Mondsiichtige"  and  in 
"Eigensinn  und  Laune,"  which  show  that  Tieck  had  a  deep 
reverence  for  the  natural  beauties  of  these  wonderful  regions. 
The  "Reisegedichte"  also  touch  on  Switzerland,  but  in  the 
main  they  commemorate  his  trip  to  Italy  in  1805-6.  They  are 
among  the  best  poems  that  Tieck  wrote  and  abound  in  touches 
of  humor,  in  hints  as  to  his  physical  as  well  as  his  mental 
and  spiritual  condition.  There  are  many  descriptions  of 
places  that  he  traversed,  and  often  the  landscape  dissolves  into 
the  emotion  of  the  moment.  In  the  main,  however,  Tieck  sees 
in  the  passing  scene  merely  the  mirror  of  his  own  thoughts, 
and  though  these  are  often  tinged  with  the  melancholy  of  a 
very  sick  man,  yet  it  is  surprising  how  little  real  ill-humor  and 
peevishness  they  contain. 

In  crossing  the  Alps  through  Tyrol,  Tieck  is  first  intoxi- 
cated by  the  uplift  of  the  mountain  scenery,^  and  then  falls  into 
a  state  of  sadness  which  was  presaged  in  ''Franz  Sternbald" "" 
long  before.  Then  he  descends  to  Bozen  in  all  its  loveliness, 
which  he  eulogizes  thus: 

"Welche  Wonne! 
Unten  liegt  ein  Himmelsthal 
Im  Glanz  der  reinen  Sonne. 

Wie  der  Weg  sich  senkt. 
Riicken  neue  Hiigel,  Berge  vor — 
,   Rundum  Glanz  und  Farbenpracht ; 
Am  Wege  hohe  Hecken 
Von  blithenden  Granaten, 
Gluth  aiif  Ghith   gedrangt.     .     .     ."' 

Although  he  arrived  in  Olevano  tired  out,  he  gives,  neverthe- 
less, a  striking  picture  of  the  dark  little  city  with  its  castle 
hanging  high  up  on  the  jagged  summit  of  this  Bergeinsam- 
hcit*  Subiaco^  with  its  mountains,  its  cypresses  and  its  val- 
leys, brings  to  his  mind  his  native  heath  with  its  desolate  bar- 
renness. He  compares  the  two  regions  after  carrying  their 
physical  qualities  over  into  the  mental  sphere: 

Toems,  216. =^XVI.,  316. ^Poems,  221. ^*Ibid.,  293;  the  word 

Bcrgcinsamkeit    is,    like    Waldeinsamkeit,    a    coinage  of  Tieck's. 

Toems,  299. 


15 

"Hier  dichtet  die  Erde, 
Dort  schlaft  sie  kaum, 
Befangen,  angstvoll, 
Ringt  sie  nur  nach  Dasein." 

In  Rome  he  scoffs  at  himself  for  his  out-and-out  German- 
ism as  he  sits  for  weeks  in  the  Vatican  library  poring  over  old 
and  musty  manuscripts  instead  of  going  out  into  the  clear 
Italian  air  to  be  cured  of  his  gout.  The  lordly  gardens,  a 
festival,  the  ruins,  all  lure  him  into  the  open,  until  an  evil 
spirit  takes  hold  of  him  compelling  him  to  copy  and  compare 
the  old  poems, 

"Und  ich  musste  nach  Rom  gehen 
Um  erst  stockdeutsch  zu  werden."* 

Tivoli  is  described  in  the  most  enthusiastic  terms  and  his  joy 
in  being  there  is  thus  indicated : 

"Saht  ihr  schon  je,  ihr  klingenden  Gestade 
Einen  so  gliicklichen  Wandersmann  ?'" 

The  feeling  for  Tivoli  still  reverberates  through  Tieck's  last  / 
novel,  "Vittoria  Accorombona,"  with  a  final  flash  of  that  old  ( 
voluptous  power  so  characteristic  of  "Lovell"  and  "Sternbald/*   / 

These  few  excerpts  will  show  a  certain  keen  appreciation  of 
Italy  in  spite  of  the  illness  and  weakness  which  oppressed 
Tieck  during  most  of  his  stay.  Long  before  he  ever  saw 
Italy,  the  love  of  it  is  expressed  in  the  "Sehnsucht  nach  Ital- 
ien,"  of  the  "Sternbald"  and  of  the  "Herzensergiessungen 
eines  kunstliebenden  Klosterbruders."  Tieck  saw  what  he 
could  of  nature  after  he  got  there,  but  his  sojourn  had  no 
such  effect  on  him  as  one  notes  in  the  case  of  Goethe;  Italy 
does  not  ring  through  his  life  as  it  did  through  Byron's,  nor,  on 
the  other  hand,  does  the  bitter  recollection  of  unpleasantness 
incurred  there  persist  as  the  ultimate  result  as  with  Grillparzer. 
Echoes  do  live  on,  and  there  is  a  joy  in  Italy  which  makes  him 
wish  to  go  back  with  Solger,  even  though  the  picture  that  he 
presents  to  his  friend's  eye  be  only  one  of  walking  through  the  / 
beautiful  world  in  philosophic  conversation.     And  so  another     : 

^Poems,  274-5. 'lb..  301-2. 


i6 

passage  in  his  letters  to  Solger  grows  significant,  when  he 
says  that  he  often  longs  to  be  out  of  this  madhouse  of  a  world 
and  to  enjoy  air  and  sunshine,  this  which  the  poet  can  do  best 
of  all,  but  that  his  humanity  (Menschheit)  leads  him  back  to 
listen,  pay  attention  and  answer."  That  is,  he  sank  himself 
more  and  more  deeply  into  abstraction  as  he  grew  older,  and 
with  this  there  came  an  ever-increasing  need  of  self  expres- 
sion on  literary  canons,  and  a  growing  away  from  reality." 

To  be  coupled  with  Tieck's  knowledge  of  specific  places  and 
complementary  to  his  attitude  toward  the  out-of-door  world 
in  general,  is  his  life-long  interest  in  gardens.  The  first  one 
which  he  probably  learned  to  know  was  the  Berlin  Tiergar- 
ten.  In  its  pleasant  shady  walks  Wackenroder  and  he  were 
accustomed  to  wander  in  their  school-days,  and  it  was  barren 
and  deserted  for  the  gentle  friend  after  Tieck  left  for  the 
university.'  In  Potsdam  there  were  gardens  in  the  mixed 
style  of  Switzer,*  and  though  Tieck  speaks  of  this  Hohenzol- 
lern  city  with  considerable  contempt  in  the  afore-cited  letter  to 
Bernhardi,  yet  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this  too  had  its  in- 
fluence on  him.  In  a  letter  to  Wackenroder  he  calls  the  cele- 
brated garden  at  Worlitz,  which  they  had  both  seen,  divine, 
and  in  connection  with  this  offers  his  first  criticism  of  a  gar- 
den. He  has  just  made  a  certain  factor  happy  by  praising  his 
mediocre  garden  and  continues:''  "This  garden  is  fairly  large 
and  every  spot  is  very  carefully  used ;  there  are  few  trees,  in 
short,  it  is  very  productive  but  the  less  beautiful."  Here  at 
once  in  his  university  days,  it  can  be  seen  how  far  he  is  above 
the  utilitarian  attitude  toward  nature.  He  can  enjoy  beauty 
for  its  own  sake.  In  this  connection  a  later  passage  from  the 
correspondence  is  eminently  expressive:"  "Moral  utility  is 
merely  a  matter  of  chance,  and  so  far  as  beautiful  objects  re- 
fine the  sense  of  beauty,  does  each  fine  art  have  an  immediate 

'Solger,    627. ^^Ibid.,    491. ^^Holtei,    Briefe    an    Tieck,    IV,   216. 

Referred  to  hereafter  as  Holtei. *Sievekin^,   Gardens   Ancient  and 

Modern,  404.     Cf.  133.  389. "^300  Briefe,  28-9.     This  garden  is  still 

a  point  of  interest.     (Sieveking,  403.)     See  also  Hosaus,  Die  Worlitzer 

Antiken,  Dessau,  1873,  1883. ^"300  Bfe.,  59.    F.  Schlegel  to  the  same 

effect  in  the  Athenaeum,  quoted  by  R.  Huch,  p.  54. 


17 

influence  on  the  character."    The  shaping  power  of  beauty  is 
nowhere  more  definitely  stated. 

The  garden  then  was  to  be  influenced  by  no  considerations 
of  a  material  sort/  as  was  the  case  so  frequently  in  a  material- 
istic generation.  Indeed,  Nicolai  so  portrayed  it  in  the  "Freu- 
den  des  jungen  Werthers"  in  which  Werther  is  represented 
in  direct  satire  on  Goethe,  as  having  purchased  a  house  with 
a  garden  and  enjoying  *'the  simple  harmless  delight  of  a  man 
who  can  put  on  his  table  a  cabbage  head  that  he  has  himself 
raised,  and  who  not  only  enjoys  the  cabbage,  but  at  the  same 
time  all  the  good  days,  the  beautiful  morning  on  which  he 
planted  it,  the  charming  evenings  on  which  he  watered  it  and 
when  he  was  pleased  with  its  progress.'"  Lotte  raised  vegeta- 
bles and  simples,  the  orchard  was  Werther's  care,  and  the 
children  planted  beds  of  tulips  and  lovely  anemones.  Nor 
would  such  a  stanza  as  this  from  Schmidt,  the  Werneuchen 
pastor,  be  possible  in  Tieck  :* 

"Die  gelbe  Honigbiene  schwebt 
Um  bliih'  nde  Himbeerbecken; 
Die  Dirne  die  im  Garten  grabt, 
Reisst  Unkraut  aus  und  Quecken. 
Der  Hauswirth  harkt  den  Gartensteig, 
Sa't  Mohn  und  Gurkenkern. 
Indessen  ruft  die  Unk'  im  Teich, 
Der  Kuckuk  in  der  Feme. 

One  expects  rather  to  find  the  romantic  longing  and  melan- 
choly of  the  sonnet  "Garten :" 

"Betret  ich  nun  des  Gartens  griine  Gange? 

Wie  frisch  und  lieblich  dort  die  tiefen  Griinde ! 

Die  Einsamkeit  holdseelig  und  gelinde, 

Wie  Chorgesang  rauscht  hier  das  Baumgedrange. 

Was  find'  ich  an  dem  bliihenden  Gehange? 

Wie' !Thranen  an  so  manchem  bunten  Kinde? 

Was  seufzen  denn  so  bang  die  Abendwinde? 

Wo  tonen   her  so  zauberhaft  Gesange? 

Sind  wohl  so  spat  in  Wand'rung  noch  die  Bienen? 

Schlummern  hier  Lieder  aufgeweckt  von  Sternen? 

Des  Waldes  Geister,  in  der  Baume  Kronen? 

Gesangs-Gottinnen,   die  den  Hain  bewohnen, 

Sind  jetzt,  herdenkend,  weit  in  andern  Femen, 

Drum  klagt  so  Wind,  wie  Staud',  und  Baum  im  Griinen."* 

^Tieck  and  the  Prince  de  Ligne  are  thoroughly  in  accord.  The  latter, 
a  noted  Belgian  connoisseur  on  gardens,  says,  "Let  all  trades  be  ban- 
ished   from   gardens."      Sieveking,  200. ^Kurschner's   Deutsche    Na- 

tionallitteratur,  LXXIL,  383. ^"Geiger's  edition,  p.  14. ^"Poems,  193. 


i8 

Tieck's  use  of  the  garden  varies  from  this  romantic  indefi- 
niteness  to  the  most  fantastic  type,  as  in  the  garden  of  poesy  in 
''Zerbino,'"  or  the  garden  of  Prospero  in  the  opening  scene 
of  "Das  Reh,"^  to  its  use  figuratively  in  "WilHam  Lovell/" 
where  change  in  the  garden  symbolizes  the  changed  times  and 
conditions  of  men. 

It  is  quite  evident  that  Tieck  had  more  than  a  merely  gen- 
eral idea  of  the  history  of  the  garden,  though  from  what  source 
he  drew  his  information,  it  is,  without  more  definite  data,  im- 
possible to  say.  There  were  innumerable  books  on  the  sub- 
ject even  in  Tieck's  time ;  he  may  have  used  some  of  these  or 
have  gained  his  information  from  the  intercourse  of  which  a 
picture  is  given  in  "Phantasus."  His  knowledge  of  a  romance 
like  the  "Insel  Felsenburg''*  might  have  served  to  keep  his 
interest  alive. 

In  "Phantasus"  Tieck  cites  the  novel  "Woldemar" '  of  his 
friend  Jacobi,  in  which,  he  says,  the  justification  of  the  correct 
attitude  toward  nature  is  found  in  a  far  better  form  than  he 
himself  could  put  it.  In  "Woldemar" "  there  is  a  detailed  de- 
scription of  a  formal  garden  with  the  usual  accessories  and 
with  two  additional  points  very  carefully  emphasized.  The 
first  is  that  the  garden  really  to  be  a  garden  must  not  be  a 
mere  imitation  of  nature :  *T  know  of  nothing  more  wretched 
than  the  imitations  of  a  so-called  free  nature,  writhing  in  a 
thousand  fetters.  .  .  .  Where  there  is  imitation,  art  must  be 
displayed,  a  creative  human  hand.  ...  I  demand  of  a  gar- 
den that  it  be  a  garden  out  and  out,  a  garden  in  a  high  degree. 
It  must  make  up  to  me  in  adornment  and  grace,  what  it  can- 
not have  in  completeness  and  majesty."  This  position  is  dis- 
\  tinctive  of  Tieck  as  well  as  of  Jacobi,  with  whom  he  may  well 
have  discussed  the  question  in  the  period  of  their  residence 
at  Munich  and  who,  as  he  remarks  in  a  letter  to  Solger,  under- 

^X.,  257flf. =^N.  S.  L,  21. 'VI.,  219,  339;  VII.,  43,  241. Tor 

which  Tieck  wrote  a  preface  in  1826. 'Konigsberg,  1792. "p. 

80  flf . 


19 

stood  him  after  all  the  best.  Kopke  also  notes  that  Tieck's 
life  in  Munich  is  portrayed  in  the  conversations  in  "Phan- 
tasus." 

The  English  Garden  in  Munich  may  have  been  a  point  of 
departure  for  the  friends  to  base  their  dislike  on,  since  it  is 
evident  that  the  landscape  style  is  not  to  Tieck's  taste.  So  for 
example,  in  "Der  getreue  Eckart" '  he  has  an  enclosed  gar- 
den, and  in  Sternbald^  one  with  a  stockade.  He  dislikes  the  de- 
based French  style,'  though  in  a  later  novelette  the  better  type 
of  French  garden  is  compared  favorably  with  the  English. 
What  Tieck  always  means  by  an  English  style  when  he  speaks 
in  condemnation,  is  a  return  to  the  romantic  elements  in  gar- 
dening, that  breaking  away  from  the  formalism  of  the  early 
Tudors,  which  was  encouraged  by  Addison  and  Pope  in 
17 12-3.  Such  an  early  English  style  is  referred  to  in  'Than- 
tasus,"*  while  later  references  to  English  taste'  are  to  the 
romantic  garden  which,  with  its  sunken  ditches  (ha-ha's),  its 
abolition  of  parterres,  "knots"  and  topiary  work,  and  its  gen- 
eral effort  toward  freedom,  openness  and  the  faithful  repro- 
duction of  nature,  was  carried  too  far  by  men  like  "Capability" 
Brown,  only  to  be  ridiculed  in  England,  and  to  work  harm  in 
the  destruction  of  many  a  fine  old  formal  garden.  Such 
changing  and  altering  are  referred  to  in  "Woldemar"  (p.  81) 
and  in  "Phantasus"  (p.  58). 

The  Italian  garden  with  its  distinctly  southern  character, 
its  artifice  so  well  based  in  its  origin,  as  Sir  William  Temple 
points  out,'  met  with  Tieck's  approval.  It  was  the  Borghese 
gardens  especially,  with  their  wealth  of  walks,  statuary,  arbors 
and  recollections  of  Goethe,  of  which  he  sings : 

"Niemals   veraltet    dein    Reiz, 
So  oft  ich   hier   wandle. 
Dank  dem  edlen  Geiste, 
Der  das  siisse  Labyrinth  erschuf 

^IV.,    203. ^'XVL,    339-40. 'IV.,    57. ^V.,    79. 'XXVIII., 

138,   147. 'Works,  217. ^'Poems,  289. 


20 


Und    uns    vergonnte, 

Hier  wo  aus  griinen  Baumen 

Bilder  uns  griissen, 

Wo  Blumenpracht  den  Friihling  ausgiesst 

Und  Duft  und  Farben  spendend 

AUe  Sinne  mif  Zauber  umstrickt. 

Gliicklich   zu  sein. 

Dort  das  sprudelnde  Wasser, 

Und  in  dem  einsamen  Raum 

Unter  Eppich  und  Ulmen  versteckt 

Die  niederperlenden  Tropfen  Krystals, 

Die  in  Marmorbecken 

Melodisch    fallen    und   klingen : 

Dazu    der    Turteltaube   Liebesklage 

Aus   dichterem   Gebiisch, 

Den  wilden  Waldruf 

Fremden  Gefliigels ; 

Wie  oft  schon  trank  ich  hier  das  siisseste 

Innigste  Leben  entziickt. — " 

The  ultimate  result,  then,  of  an  examination  of  Tieck's  atti- 
tude toward  the  garden  is  rather  at  variance  with  what  might 
/    be  expected  from  a  romantic  poet.    He  wished  a  certain  arti- 
I     ficiality  in  it,  as  can  be  seen  from  his  comparisons  of  the  vari- 
\^  ous  forms  of  the  garden  with  the  various  artificial  verse-forms, 
like  the  sextet  of  which  he  was  so  fond ;  such  comparisons  are 
foimd  as  late  as  *'Vittoria  Accorombona."^  Nor  does  he  like  to 
have  the  garden  encroach  on  the  domain  of  nature,  and  he  can 
endure  almost  all  of  the  eccentricities  of  formalism  until  the 
decay  of  taste  occurs  under  the  influence  of  the  Dutch.   Glass 
balls,  colored  sand  and  the  other  excessive  baroque  elements 
are  as  repellant  to  him  as  the  excess  of  nature,  with  a  conse- 
quent attempt  to  arouse  the  melancholy  and  sentimental  feel- 
ings in  man.'' 

Tieck  discusses  a  very  curious  garden  in  ''Der  Jahrmarkt,'" 
a  novelette  which,  according  to  Friesen,*  points  to  a  time  when 
Tieck  was  interested  in  gardens  of  a  mystic-symbolic  order, 
and  which  is  to  be  connected  with  gardens  of  the  same  type 
in  Jean  Paul.  That  Tieck  has  progressed  beyond  a  liking  for 
such  a  garden  is  perfectly  clear  from  a  passage  in  the  novelette 

'Second   edition,    Breslau,     1841.    I.,    93. 'IV.,    80.      Humorously 

touched  on,  p.  85. n831.    XX.,  Ifl. 'U.,  361. 


21 

itself,  in  which  the  deserting  hermit  speaks  of  another  garden 
a  mile  or  so  away  from  this  curious  one.  In  that  nothing  so 
fantastic  is  found,  and  nature  is  only  helped  along  toward 
perfection.^  The  garden  of  "Der  Jahrmarkt"  is  as  fantastic 
as  anything  that  the  imagination  of  Jean  Paul  could  invent. 
It  is  largely  allegorical  in  character,  and  so  one  meets  conceits 
like  a  valley  of  childhood,  a  plain  of  youth  with  saplings  and 
no  flowers;  pines  indicate  the  hill  of  maturity,  while  dead 
trees  show  the  bareness  of  old  age,  just  as  Brown  in  Eng- 
land planted  them  to  imitate  a  perfectly  natural  landscape. 

In  this  garden,  as  in  one  mentioned  by  Sir  William  Tem- 
ple,' are  found  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  Greece  is  rep- 
resented by  a  wooden  temple  connected  by  a  winding  path 
with  Elysium;  there  is  a  short  cut  thereto,  and  an  impatient 
visitor  by  chance  uses  it  to  the  vexation  of  the  owner,  as  is 
shown  with  much  humor  and  a  tinge  of  gentle  satire.  Tar- 
tarus also  is  not  lacking,  and  in  the  portrayal  of  its  wonders 
the  garden  at  Worlitz  may  have  been  in  Tieck's  mind,  though 
the  painted  wooden  Cerberus  is  thoroughly  Tieckian  in  its 
humor.  The  itinerary  of  civilization  continues  through  China 
and  Turkey  to  the  Christian  Gothic  era,  and  then  the  progress 
of  man  goes  hand  in  hand  with  the  history  of  gardening,  so  that 
topiary  work  and  the  Dutch  atrocities  are  presented  as  typical 
of  their  respective  ages.  At  this  juncture  the  Baron  who  owns 
the  garden  remarks  to  the  party  that  he  is  conducting,  apropos 
of  the  loudly  expressed  pleasure  of  the  minister's  wife  in  this 
portion,  that  the  absolute  absence  of  nature  ( Unnatur)  has  its 
charm  as  well,  because  through  it  the  mind  is  turned  back  to 
the  delights  of  the  real.  More  than  this  Tieck  does  not  imply 
by  his  praise  of  Unnatur,  for  he  was  primarily  a  lover  of  the 
simple  and  direct  emotions.  In  the  grotto  of  the  sirens  the 
too  inquisitive  youth  is  sprayed  with  water  after  the  manner 
of  the  fountains  on  the  Vexirkiinste  on  which  Theodore  dis- 
cants  in  "Phantasus."    There  is  a  valley  of  tears  and  a  hill  of 

^Cf.   XXIII.,  9,  where  speaking  of  the   Finkenstein   gardens  Tieck 
praises    their   unpretentiousness. ^Works,   223. 


22 


superstition,  and  finally  with  charming  pleasantry,  a  region 
of  virtue  with  seats  and  a  bust  of  Socrates.  Last  of  all  comes 
nature  itself,  from  white  painted  stones  in  the  polar  regions, 
to  the  hot-houses  and  artificial  volcanos  of  the  tropics.  A 
good  luncheon  completes  the  experience  of  this  marvellous  in- 
stitution. 

It  is  self-evident  that  this  is  not  in  any  way  to  be  regarded 
as  a  model  garden.  Tieck  presents  it  with  gentle  irony,  per- 
haps as  the  consummation  of  that  in  a  garden  which  makes  it 
intrinsically  less  valuable.  His  idea  of  the  garden  is  limited 
and  coincides  with  the  second  point  made  by  Jacobi  in  "Wol- 
demar,"  where  the  fundamental  insufficiency  of  the  garden  as 
a  satisfying  factor  in  man's  delight  in  nature  is  strongly 
brought  out.  The  same  thought  is  quite  constant  with  Tieck. 
As  early  as  the  letter  to  Bernhardi  already  quoted,  he  re- 
marks, "in  every  garden  without  exception  the  lofty  religious 
feeling  is  lost  which  nature  produces  in  us."  ^  In  the  Poems 
the  expression  is  even  stronger :  ^ 

"Endlich  die  Hohe  erreicht, 
Und  Alpen,  weiter  Himmel  vind  See 
Beschamen  in  klarsten   Morgenlicht 
Die  falsche  Kiinstelei  des  Gartens." 

In  "Der  junge  Tischlermeister"  Charlotte  cries  out  that 
there  are  times  when  the  most  lovely  garden  terrifies.' 

It  is  manifest  then  from  this,  that  though  Tieck's  interest  in 
gardens  was  lively,  though  his  understanding  of  them  was  inti- 
mate, and  his  tastes  very  definite,  though  he  cared  for  the  gar- 
den as  a  garden  to  a  very  great  degree,  yet  his  nature  sense  is 
not  to  be  bounded  by  it,  and  that  the  investigation  must  look 
out  into  a  far  broader  world,  into  the  whole  of  visible  creation, 
unwalled,  for  the  scope  of  his  feeling.  As  Biese  says,*  the  gar- 
den style  of  an  age  is  always  a  highly  important  gauge  of  the 
relation  of  the  human  being  to  nature,  according  as  man  sub- 
jects it  to  his  laws.  Taste  and  culture  are  mirrored  in  the 
gardens  of  each  age  as  it  progresses  toward  perfection.    With 

*P.  198.     Even  in  Worlitz  as  he  says. ^'Poems,  333. ^XXVIIL, 

283. *Page  262. 


23 

Tieck  there  is  an  uplift  beyond  the  garden,  an  effort  to  Hve 
untrammeled  in  nature  itself." 

The  first  impulse  away  from  the  confines  of  the  garden  is 
in  an  attempt  to  obtain  wide  views  in  nature.  The  landscape 
garden  which  for  definite  reasons  did  not  appeal  to  Tieck, 
was  an  effort  in  this  direction,  but  he  preferred  the  wideness 
in  nature  itself,  as  can  be  seen  for  example,  in  the  whole 
trend  of  his  letter  to  Bernhardi  on  his  trip  to  the  Fichtelge- 
birge,  where  he  is  always  on  the  lookout  for  vistas.  Tieck 
touches  upon  this  even  humorously  in  **Der  gestiefelte  Kater" 
when  the  king  climbs  a  tree  and  exclaims  from  the  branches, 
'T  love  the  broad  views  in  nature,""  the  fresh  satire  of  which 
is  like  a  breath  of  cool  air  blowing  in  on  a  dull  day.  Again, 
in  "Der  Autor,"  Der  Altfrank  says  to  the  poet  who  is  of 
course,  Tieck  himself,  "Du  liebst  in  der  Natur  das  Weite  und 
Freie,'"  a  statement  that  is  borne  out  by  many  a  passage  in 
Tieck's  writings. 

For  instance,  Peter  Lebrecht's  father's  cloister  had  a  view 
where  one  could  see  far  and  wide  over  blooming  fields,  cities 
and  villages.*     Again,   in  *'Ritter  Blaubart,'"  the  desire   for 

^That  Tieck's  characters  enjoy  gardens  and  are  found  in  them  need 
hardly  be  mentioned.  A  case  or  two  in  point:  IV.,  304,  XVI.,  340. 
XXVIIL,  137.  and  in  several  of  the  novelettes  such  as  "Gliick 
giebt  Verstand."  There  are  gardeners  in  "Lovell"  and  "Der  Ru- 
nenberg."  To  be  intimately  connected  with  his  attitude  toward 
gardens  is  Tieck's  disposition  of  the  house.  In  general,  his  houses 
lie  low.  For  example,  in  "Magelone"  there  is  a  meadow  opposite  and 
cattle  graze  on  the  hills  off  to  one  side.  On  the  other  side  there  is  a 
wood.  In  "Der  blonde  Eckbert"  (IV.,  151)  the  hut  lies  in  a  green 
valley  full  of  birches.  In  Sternbald  (XVI.,  172)  it  lies  in  a  free  wide 
space  backed  by  rocks  and  trees.  In  "Liebeszauber"  house  and  garden 
are  intimately  connected  and  in  the  most  charming  region.  Here, 
too,  there  are  wooded  hills  and  a  river.  In  "Die  Elfen"  (IV.,  365) 
the  house  lies  high  and  this  exceptional  situation  is  also  that  of  "Das 
Zauberschloss."  Especially  interesting  and  quite  in  accord  with 
Tieck's  love  of  the  woods  is  the  fact  that  his  houses  are  so  fre- 
quently in  a  grove-like  environment.  For  example,  in  Red  Riding 
Hood  and  "Waldeinsamkeit."  In  "Der  Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen" 
the  house  nestles  among  the  olive  trees  and  vineyards  of  a  milder 
climate.  (XXVI.,  287.)  The  lack  of  a  bold  and  striking  situation 
is  at  once  apparent,  while  the  feeling  of  privacy  so  to  be  desired  in 
the  ideal  house  is  secured  by  the  surrounding  trees. 
=*V.,  258-9. 'XIII.,  320. ^XIV.,  232. =V.,  83,  88,  136. 


24 

broad  views  is  set  forth  by  Agnes  in  her  longing  for  travel, 
and  the  play  has  several  roof  scenes  where  the  view  is  taken 
from  above.  Such  desire  for  travel  is  not  rare  among  the 
characters  from  Tieck's  pen.  It  permeates  "Sternbald,"  and 
takes  fast  hold  of  Athelstan  in  "Die  Reise  ins  Blaue  hinein." 
Leonard  has  it  in  "Der  junge  Tischlermeister"  and  the  cycle 
is  completed  when,  in  the  tale  within  a  tale  in  "Die  Glocke 
von  Arragon,"  Tieck  essays  to  show  that  after  all  travel 
"home-keeping  hearts  are  happiest."  It  seems  as  if  Tieck, 
after  a  restlessness  in  which  his  spirit  was  ever  longing  to  be 
superior  to  the  ills  of  his  body,  had  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  were  better  to  remain  quiet  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  sim- 
ple earthly  happiness.    The  motive  often  recurs.^ 

His  characters  enjoy  the  broad  view  even  more  than  they 
do  the  garden.  So  Lovell ;''  and  he  says  of  Franz  and  Ru- 
dolph in  "Sternbald"  that  they  were  overjoyed  as  they  looked 
down  from  a  hill  into  the  riotous  beauty  of  the  landscape  f 
their  hearts  swelled  and  they  felt  themselves  regenerated, 
"magnetically  attracted  by  heaven  and  earth  through  love."  In 
"Fortunat"*  the  free  landscape  and  the  garden  are  associated 
as  the  two  desiderata  from  which  prison  keeps  man.  In 
"Dichterleben,"''  Rosaline  and  Shakespere  go  out  on  the  hill 
above  Bath  to  enjoy  the  westerly  view  toward  Bristol.  In 
"Eine  Sommerreise"^  there  is  a  very  interesting  and  beautiful 
passage,  based  on  a  real  experience,  which  describes  the  break- 
ing or  the  light  through  the  clouds  and  the  disclosing  of  the 
vista  behind.  "Der  Alte  vom  Berge"'  contains  a  similar  de- 
scription :  "The  mist  had  meanwhile  lifted  slightly,  and  one  saw 
from  above  the  little  valleys  with  wood  and  bush  lighted  like 
tiny  islands  by  the  morning  sun,  and  between,  the  half-hid- 
den little  house  and  huts  which  leaned  against  hill  and  rock." 
So,  too,  in  "Der  Aufruhr"  there  is  a  view  from  an  arbor 
over  the  distant  hills.* 

The  wide  view  can  be  extended  to  the  heavens  which,  with 
clouds  and  stars,  form  a  fitting  basis  for  man's  contemplation 

^XIV.,  219.  Cf.  XXIV.,  297. ^^VI.,  33. "XVL,  204.— *III.,  431. 

"XVIIL,    307. «XXIII..    26. ^^XXIV.,    150. «XXVI.,    259. 


25 

of  the  infinite,  but  there  seem  but  few  places  in  Tieck  where 
he  sinks  himself  thoroughly  into  this  mood/  though  he  surely 
enjoys  the  sky  and  especially  the  stars,  whose  influence  on 
man  he  feels  to  be  very  great. 

The  other  symbol  of  infinity,  the  endless  sea,  plays  a  rather 
minor  role  in  Tieck's  works.  In  the  much-despised  "Alia 
Moddin,"  which  has  its  scene  on  an  island,  there  is  a  certain 
atmosphere  of  it,  and  it  is  there  used  as  a  symbol  of  freedom. 
In  "Magelone'""  there  is  an  overwrought  description  of  a  sun- 
rise on  the  sea  in  the  manner  of  the  nature  descriptions  of 
that  rather  turgid  rehabilitation  of  the  old  legend.  The  soft 
lights  of  the  setting  sun  over  the  Mediterranean  at  Leghorn' 
and  a  touch  now  and  then  as,  for  example,  the  gray  sea  of 
one  of  the  poems,  are  all.  Even  where  the  opportunity  oflFered 
itself  as  in  the  novelettes  which  treat  of  the  same  theme  as 
Schiller's  "Diver,"  Tieck  confines  himself  to  literary  enthusi- 
asms. He  was,  of  course,  not  without  feeling  for  the  sea;  he 
liked  the  broad  view  over  the  water  as  well  as  over  the  plain 
to  the  hills.  Loveir  looks  out  into  the  endless  sea,  and  in 
I  *  Abendgesprache""  the  old  man  loves  the  sea  best  of  all: 
"Here  one  has  the  flight  of  the  clouds,  the  freshness  of  the 
water,  the  current  of  air — and  what  one  may  call  real 
weather.  Then  each  wave  offers  food  for  contemplation:  the 
long  roll,  the  hovering,  the  final  break;  one  wave  coming 
quietly,  another  foaming,  the  third  with  a  high  curve,  and 
the  next  breaking  too  soon."  The  sounds  and  lights  of  the 
sea  are  also  described. 

But  generally  it  is  mountain  and  plain  which  afford  Tieck 
his  outlook  on  the  visible  world.  In  "Der  Runenberg'"  the 
contrast  is  brought  out  between  mountain  and  the  level  land 
in  the  feelings  of  Christian,  who,  born  in  the  confines  of  the 
lowlands,  is  awakened  to  new  life  by  the  mysterious  call  of 
the  upland.  Tieck  knew  exceedingly  well  how  to  express  the 
demoniac  fascination  of  this  mountain  influence;  how  flat  and 

'XXVI.,    528. ^"IV.,    340. ^'Poems,    325. *VI.,    41. "XXV., 

210. ^'IV.,  216,  227. 


26 

stale  all  other  landscapes  appear  to  the  young  man  after  the 
snow-capped  peaks,  how  dull  the  winding  river  after  the 
swift-rushing  mountain  torrent.  Yet  in  this  place  there  comes 
at  once  a  sense  of  rebound,  so  that  he  can  say  that  the  plain 

l^  appears  delightful  after  the  terrors  of  the  mountains.  The 
charm  of  the  prospect  of  a  broad  plain  is  elsewhere  not  un- 
noticed by  Tieck,  even  where  there  is  no  sense  of  contrast; 
as,  for  example,  in  "Sternbald  :"^  "Now  the  forest  opened 
up.  A  beautiful  plain  with  bushes  and  tufted  hills  lay  before 
them."  The  plain  shows  a  view  of  the  distant  mountains  and 
is  broken  up  by  bushes  as  Tieck  wished  it  in  a  later  passage 
from  "Phantasus''^  on  the  theory  that  this  heightens  the 
esthetic  and  spiritual  effect. 

In  "Peter  Lebrecht/'^  it  is  the  mountains  behind  which  his 
childish  wishes  lay ;  in  the  Italian  poems,  the  mountains  affect 
him  with  their  grandeur  and  solemnity,  and  the  whole  tremen- 
dous power  of  the  Alps  is  nowhere  better  exhibited  than  on 
Emmeline  in  "Eigensinn  und  Laune."*  She  says  amid  tears 
and  sobs:  "Can  one  see  the  natural  beauties  of  this  place, 
above  us  the  Eiger  and  the  other  immeasurable  Alps,  all 
about  us  the  green  solitude  of  the  wilderness,  and  all  this  so 
heart-rending,  without  deep  emotion?  I  never  could  have 
believed  that  nature  could  so  powerfully  penetrate  the  human 
spirit.  My  soul  succumbs  to  these  unexpected  feelings."  The 
idyllic  concomitant  of  the  Lago  di  Garda  and  the  nearness  of 
Germany  and  Switzerland  are  alluded  to  in  "Vittoria  Accor- 

^)  ombona,"  where  the  ever-changing  scene  of  the  mountain 
gives  an  individual  charm  to  the  landscape  and  to  the  life  of 
Vittoria  and  her  husband  in  their  loving  days  before  the  ulti- 
mate catastrophe. 

The  first  noticeable  feature  of  the  landscape  as  such,  is  its 

wide  scope,  as  when  in  "Abdallah"^  Tieck  covers  the  whole 

range  of  the  visible  scene  and  fills    in    the    details    besides: 

"Now  he  climbed  a  hill  which  overlooked  a  very  beautiful 

^region.    A  vale  nestled  down  between  the  wood-covered  moun- 

^XVI,   231. ^IV.,    122. ''XIV.,   219. *XXIV.,    306. ^'VIIL, 

45.  V 


27 

tains;  the  woods  rustled  soberly  and  solemnly  and  through 
their  trembling  green  a  stream  peeped  coyly ;  this  disappeared 
from  time  to  time,  and  now  and  again  shone  in  the  sunshine 
like  a  broad  lake.  Peaceful  cottages  lay  trustingly  under  the 
trees,  the  sunshine  played  in  many  rays  upon  the  fresh  green 
of  the  turf,  which  poured  down,  now  darker,  now  lighter  from 
the  hills.  Cedars  stood  solemn  and  black  on  the  mountains 
which  enclosed  the  horizon.  All  beings,  from  the  fly  that 
hummed  in  the  sunlight,  to  the  stag  in  the  forest  and  the  eagle 
in  the  clouds  were  joyful  and  happy." 

The  details  of  this  description  are  given  in  very  logical 
order,  as  often  in  Tieck;  for  instance  in  Felicitas'  monolog 
in  the  wilderness,  where  the  landscape  rises  with  the  eye  from 
the  valley  in  which  the  water  is,  to  the  grass-covered  meadow 
(Plan)  and  thence  to  hills  and  sky,  while  whispering  trees 
and  loneliness  add  the  requisite  romantic  touch .^  In  the  poem 
"Phantasus," '  the  progression  is  again  from  below  upward, 
starting  with  the  very  fish  in  the  water  and  ending  in  the  air. 
The  poem  "Tyrol"'  offers  the  reverse  process,  for  the  view  is 
down  on  the  landscape  from  above  on  the  hillside,  and  is 
bounded  by  valley  and  sky.  Tieck's  vision  drops  in  a  natural 
way  from  the  rocky  walls  high  up,  through  the  wooded  hill- 
sides, to  the  vineyards,  and  connects  the  hill  and  valley  very 
easily  by  means  of  the  mountain  cascade  which  becomes  the 
river  below. 

Sometimes  the  two  methods  are  combined*  and  the  progress 
is  down  from  above  and  then  at  once  again  up  from  below. 
Or  with  an  interesting  sidelight  on  the  application  of  Lessing's 
doctrine  of  motion  in  poetry,  in  the  poem  "San  Lorenzo  and 
Bolsena,"'  Tieck  causes  the  landscape  to  rise  and  meet  the 
descending  spectator.  In  "Der  Runenberg""  the  landscape 
climbs  with  him.  To  gain  greater  scope  and  seemingly  not 
with  entire  unconsciousness  in  the  use  of  the  method,  Tieck, 
employs  the  simple  but  striking  device,  of  drawing  attention! 
to  the  reflection  of  the  sky  in  the  water.^    The  resulting  per-1 

^I.,   112. ^^IV.,    131. ^^Poems,   216. ^*Ibid,   41. "Poems,   249. 

^^IV.,  219  ff. 'XVI.,  45. 


28 


spective  doubles  the  sweep  and  depth  of  the  view.  The  same 
expedient  is  resorted  to  in  "Neuer  Sinn,"^  an  early  poem, 
where  the  stars  mirror  themselves  in  the  sea,  but  no  further 
details  are  given.  In  the  main  then,  it  is  a  broad  scene  and  a 
wooded  and  hilly  landscape  which  is  found  in  Tieck,  and  from 
what  has  been  said  before,  this  preference  is  natural;  it  lay 
in  the  law  of  contrasts  that  he  should  tend  toward  this  type 
rather  than  to  the  plain  and  heath. 

The  various  aspects  of  the  landscape  deserve  brief  mention. 
It  is  found  in  all  phases  of  the  day,  either  in  regular  progres- 
sion from  day-time  to  night-time,  or  vice-versa;  here  its  use 
may  be  merely  decorative  or  again  the  use  may  be  wholly 
symbolic  of  states  of  consciousness.  There  seems  to  be  no 
special  preference  for  any  particular  time,  and  this  is  due  to 
the  continued  pregnancy  of  the  moments  in  question.  All  the 
seasons  are  represented,  winter  less  frequently.  Spring  re- 
mains the  season  of  romance,  and  the  reason  for  Tieck's  pre- 
ference for  the  spring  is  at  once  evident  when  one  takes  into 
consideration  the-  whole  man  and  the  sources  of  his  inspira- 
tion. In  some  ways  Tieck  was  advanced;  he  has  a  decidedly 
more  modern  attitude  toward  the  mountains  than  that  which 
was  current  from  classic  times  to  Dr.  Johnson,  who  was  dis- 
gusted with  the  Scottish  Highlands  on  account  of  the  difficul- 
ties attendant  upon  travel  there.  But  in  respect  to  the  storm, 
winter,  rain  and  cold,  Tieck  is  still  altogether  within  the 
bounds  of  tradition.  With  his  physical  delicacy  and  his  gout, 
he  could  not  be  expected  to  live  in  the  clash  and  play  of  the 
elements  as  did  Goethe,  or  to  swim  the  Hellespont  with  Byron. 
The  storm  had  its  attraction  for  him,  but  not  for  its  own  sake ; 
it  is  the  symbol  of  inner  conflict,  or  it  is  decorative. 

That  higher  type  of  nature  feeling,  which  is  necessary 
to  have  in  order  to  understand  and  love  the  unpleasant  as  well 
as  the  pleasant  moods  of  nature  was  almost  wholly  foreign  to 
him.  Furthermore  Tieck  was  largely  influenced  by  literary 
models,  and  spring  is  the  traditional  season  of  the  poet,  especi- 

'Poems.  85. 


29 

ally  in  the  medieval  poetry  with  which  he  so  largely  occupied 
himself.  As  iS  natural,  the  result  of  this  attention  to  the  work 
of  past  ages  takes  a  somewhat  conventional  form,  but  there 
is  less  of  the  really  hackneyed  in  Tieck  than  might  be  sup- 
posed. The  trees,  the  flowers,  nightingales  and  the  phenom- 
ena of  the  heavens  are  often  presented  with  pathetic  inward- 
ness and  veracity.  Tieck's  effort  was  to  get  close  to  nature. 
He  seems  to  have  slipped  away  from  it  and  from  life  with  re- 
gret, and  his  misfortune  is  that  his  creative  power  always  was 
less  than  the  mass  of  ideas  and  feelings  within  him. 

Dawn  pictures  are  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  the  descrip- 
tions are  given  with  a  vividness  of  language  that  brings  to 
mind  in  its  poetic  fire  the  golden  rays  of  the  rising  sun.  The 
dawn  is  preeminently  a  great  occasion  in  Tieck's  life,  and  the 
impression  that  the  one  sunrise  in  the  Harz  made  on  him  was 
vital  and  lasting.  The  dawn  is  variously  presented.  In 
"Genoveva"  the  moments  before  the  breaking  of  day  are  twice 
noticed,  once  when  Zulma  describes  the  coming  of  the  watch 
who  extinguishes  the  dim  lamps,  the  gradual  paling  of  the 
moon  and  of  the  little  stars,  and  finally  the  cock  in  the  neigh- 
boring village  announcing  the  coming  of  day.*  In  another 
place  in  the  play,  Genoveva  tells  of  the  coming  of  the  morning, 
the  disappearance  of  the  stars,  and  the  gradual  sinking  of  the 
veil  of  the  night  as  the  morning  lark  rises.' 

Impatience  for  the  coming  dawn  is  portrayed  in  "Alia  Mod- 
din,"'  and  the  actual  dawning  is  painted  in  the  most  flamboyant 
colors,  and  with  much  personification.  Here  the  sun  rises  in 
purple  floods  and  with  flaming  sails.  Later  on,  in  "Abdal- 
lah,"  the  elements  are  the  trembling  sunbeam,  the  fresh  cool 
breeze,  and  the  reflection  of  the  light  on  the  waves  and  palaces. 
Such  light-reflection  as  a  part  of  the  dawn  is  found  in  "Stern- 
bald,"*  where  the  churches  of  Nuremberg  shine  out  to  Franz 
at  parting,  and  again  in  "Genoveva,'"'  where  the  windows 
shine  in  the  reflected  rays.  The  light  usually  burns  warm,  and 
the  favorite  colors  are  the  reds,  purples  and  gold.*     Indeed 

^IL,  47. =^11.,  89-90. «XI.,  347. ^*XVI,  4. 'U.,  6. ^»VIIL, 

51. 


30 

the  word  Morgenrothe  is  of  singular  frequence  in  Tieck. 

Besides  pictures  of  the  dawn  proper,  there  are  many  of  the 
morning  in  a  further  stage  of  advancement,  as  for  example, 
in  *'Der  blonde  Eckbert,''  where  the  sunshine  spreads  over  the 
green  fields  and  makes  the  green  birches  sparkle/ 

The  sunset  mood  and  the  descriptions  of  the  magnificence 
of  the  setting  sun,  the  Ahendrothe,  pervade  all  of  Tieck's 
works.  As  early  as  "Abdallah,"'^  the  elegiac  mood  or  revery 
is  connected  with  this  period  of  the  day:  Abdallah  returned 
to  the  city  after  having  watched  the  shadows  grow  long  on 
the  mountains.  The  evening  bustle  and  occupation  surround 
him ;  but  in  his  mind's  eye  he  still  sees  the  country  and  hears 
the  sound  of  the  inaudible  flute  in  a  way  that  recalls  Words- 
worth's ''Reverie  of  Poor  Susan,"  who  "at  the  corner  of  Wood 
Street  and  Cheapside"  has  the  country  brought  vividly  back 
to  her  by  a  singing  bird. 

As  in  the  dawn  pictures,  the  emphasis  is  again  on  the  color, 
on  the  purples,  the  soft  reds  and  the  golden  rays,  which  glow 
especially  on  trees  and  fields,^  or  now  and  then,  as  in  the  des- 
cription of  Florence  at  sunset,  on  hills,  villas  and  buildings,* 
or  again,  as  in  the  poem  on  Leghorn,  cited  above,''  where  the 
glimpse  of  distant  Elba  with  its  soft  glow  and  the  strange 
lights  on  the  water  together  with  passing  ships  and  birds,  fills 
out  the  picture.  The  nightingales  and  the  night  butterflies 
are  also  elements,  as  the  picture  progresses." 

The  moon  when  it  rises  is  either  ted  or  golden  \  the  silver 
moon  seems  not  to  have  attracted  Tieck's  attention.  The  im- 
portance of  the  moonlight  for  Tieck  will  be  discussed  later; 
for  the  present  it  will  suffice  to  note  its  intimate  connection 
with  the  romantic  aspects  of  all  his  work,  the  culmination  of 
which  is  found  in  the  novelette  ''Der  Mondsiichtige,"  in  which 
the  love  of  the  moonlight  and  the  influence  it  exerts  are  car- 
ried to  the  same  extreme  as  the  love  of  the  forest  in  ''Waldein- 
samkeit."     In  the  descriptions  of  the    moonlight    the    same 

^IV.,   158. =^VIII.,  47. "IX.,  207;   IV.,   151. *Poems,  242. 

'Ibid.,  325. "IX.,  207;  XIV.,  154. 'II.,  115,  117,  118,  119. 


31 

points  are  brought  out  as  in  the  dawn  and  sunset  pictures, 
namely  the  shimmering  reflected  light  and  in  general  the  sense 
of  fullness  and  intimacy  with  the  time  and  scene  in  question/ 

While  the  sunset  and  moonrise  are  intimately  connected,  the 
night  is  far  less  logically  joined  to  the  other  parts  of  the  day, 
and  may  be  said  to  be  used  with  more  attention  to  the  poetic 
or  theatrical  effects.  The  night  itself  is  usually  heavy  and 
black  with  clouds,  which,  themselves  mountains,  sink  down 
from  the  mountains.  No  star  and  no  gleam  of  moonlight  pene- 
trate this  cloud  wilderness.  There  is  rain  and  storm,  the  sky 
has  deep  dark  shadows.  Such  an  aspect  is  in  distinct  contrast 
to  a  night-  coming  after  sunset  when  the  moonlight  rises  gold- 
en. That  is,  the  clear  moonlight  night  is  usually  a  develop- 
ment of  the  day.  Night  when  used  alone  is  at  best  starlit  and 
conveys  a  sense  of  heaviness  and  gloom.' 

The  enumeration  of  the  various  phases  of  Tieck's  attitude 
toward  the  individual  phenomena  of  the  visible  world  could 
be  extended  considerably,  but  enough  has  been  said  to  show 
that  his  interest  lay  along  certain  fixed  lines,  somewhat  tra- 
ditional in  the  main,  it  must  be  admitted,  but  felt  with  a  poet's 
inwardness  and  reality.  The  concreteness  of  his  vision  and 
the  reality  of  it  are  noticeable  in  the  emphasis  on  color,  light 
and  shade  and  in  the  predilection  for  broad  views. 

^XXI,  92,  131. *VIII.,  58;  IV.,  190;  L,  303,  336;  XXVI..  117,  507, 

417. 


CHAPTER  TWO 

TIECK'S  PHILOSOPHIC  ATTITUDE  TOWARD 
NATURE 

The  limitations  of  this  chapter  are  at  once  evident,  and  are 
conditioned  by  those  characteristics  of  Tieck  that  were  noticed 
in  the  introductory  remarks.  Tieck  was  not  a  philosopher, 
but  a  poet,  and  developed,  therefore,  no  defensible  scheme  of 
nature  philosophy  which  can  be  set  up  as  a  canon  for  future 
thinkers.  In  particular,  he  was  no  metaphysician  and  his  cos- 
mogonical  ideas  are  always  inextricably  blended  with  his  pure- 
ly poetic  dicta.  But  yet  there  are  certain  intellectual  phases  of 
his  work  which  deserve  treatment  under  this  head.  With  how- 
ever little  justification,  he  felt  himself  to  be  a  philosopher,  and 
philosophized  about  God,  the  mystics  and  the  systematic 
thinkers.    Some  of  these  aspects  may  be  treated  here. 

What  religion  could  mean  to  him,  can  at  once  be  seen  from 
his  words  in  "Sternbald,"  where  he  says  that  piety  is  the  high- 
est and  purest  esthetic  pleasure.  At  the  same  time,  this  re- 
mark throws  light  on  his  whole  attitude  toward  Catholicism, 
to  which  an  uncompromising  Protestantism  accused  him  of 
being  a  convert.  It  was  his  sense  of  form  and  color  and  his 
romantic  longing  that  made  him  turn  to  that  church  which 
most  satisfied  his  fantasy,  but  there  seems  to  be  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  he  was  actually  a  proselyte.  His  God  was  a  far 
different  god  from  that  of  any  church,  and  though  in  "Geno- 
veva"  and  elsewhere,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  the  mystery  and 
uplift  of  an  orthodox  deity,  with  appurtenances,  it  is  plain  that 
this  deity  has  for  Tieck  a  purely  poetic  value  and  is  not  to  be 
regarded  as  a  part  of  his  private  human  belief.  As  he  grew 
older,  the  subjectivity  of  his  early  years  dominated  him  less 
and  less,  and  finally,  to  judge  from  a  deliverance  recorded  by 


33 

Kopke  under  the  caption  "Religion,"  he  reached  an  entirely 
objective  and  historical  attitude  toward  the  whole  world  of 
religion,  and  his  entire  philosophy  is  summed  up  in  a  stoic 
maxim  of  resignation. 

Both  in  philosophical  receptivity  and  in  religious  fervor, 
Tieck  was  of  the  impressionable  type,  and  as  he  came  under 
various  influences  at  different  periods  of  his  career,  so  the  re- 
sult tends  to  become  an  undigested  mass  of  ideas  from  many 
sources,  with  a  consequent  shifting  of  attitude.  The  most  im- 
portant factors  in  his  cultural  sum  are  plainly  Goethe,  Jacob 
Boehme  and  Shakespere,  but  Fichte,  Ben  Johnson,  Cervantes, 
the  Romanticists,  Schiller  and  Solger,  not  to  mention  many 
others,  exert  a  more  or  less  transitory  influence  on  him. 

It  was  under  the  influence  of  Fichte's  philosophy,  as  well  as 
from  a  natural  predilection  for  such  ideas,  that  Tieck  early 
came  to  believe  that  the  whole  outside  world  was  only  a  re- 
flex of  himself,  and  that  whatever  was  there,  was  projected 
there  by  his  own  ego.  In  "Abdallah"  and  "Lovell"  this  philo- 
sophy led  to  an  ideal  of  life  which  made  pleasure  its  aim,  an 
ideal  summed  up  in  the  words  of  "Lx)vell,"*  "In  this  material 
world  I  myself  am  my  first  and  last  goal."  The  ignobleness  of 
this  egoism  with  its  selfishness,  its  utter  abandon  to  wrong, 
and  the  resultant  moral  decay,  as  exemplified  by  Lovell,  is  not 
a  necessary  development,  though  it  is  a  perfectly  logical  one ; 
Abdallah,  however,  often  merely  feels  the  unrealty  of  nature 
except  as  a  mirror  of  his  own  passions — "all  nature  was  mere- 
ly an  echo  of  his  own  feelings."*  In  the  "Phantasien  iiber  die 
Kunst"'  the  same  idea  is  expressed:  "And  I  should  like  in 
many  an  hour  of  pleasure  to  say  that  the  world  and  the  very 
sun  in  the  sky  borrow  their  light  from  me."  Again  in  "Zer- 
bino."* 

"Alles  Leben  war  aus  der  ewigen  Natur  geflohen. 
Und  ich  sah  in  ihr  mich  selbst." 

The  same  thought  is  more  poetically  expressed  in    "Wald 

Garten  und  Berg,"  in  which  the  spirits  of  the  mountains  are 

'VII.,   30. ^'VIII.,    51. 'Poems,    186;    Cf.    Herzensergiessungen, 

185;  Poems,  211;  IV.,  202. *X.,  17>. 


34 

said  to  be  inwardly  related  to  man  who  can,  by  the  force  of 
his  spirit,  make  nature  serve  him.  This  idea  runs  through 
Tieck's  works  in  several  forms;  in  one  of  the  ''Lebensele- 
mente,"^  self-observation  is  identified  with  observation  of  na- 
ture. In  "Das  alte  Buch""  the  reaction  of  man  upon  nature  is 
very  strongly  expressed  in  the  words  "Ohne  Stimmung  ist 
keine  Natur  da,"  while  in  "Die  Vogelscheuche,'"  the  idea  has 
degenerated  into  a  statement  almost  therapeutic  in  value,  where 
the  astronomer  Heinzmann  expatiates  on  the  influence  of  the 
spiritual  body  on  the  material.  Marlowe  in  "Dichterleben"* 
says  in  the  same  spirit:  "And  our  vital  emotions,  our  fan- 
cies, our  inspirations,  are  they  not  perhaps  the  inmost  forces 
and  springs  of  the  other  animals,  of  the  plants,  the  elements 
and  the  so-called  inanimate  objects?  Would  the  earth  revolve 
around  the  sun  without  man?  Would  the  ice  of  the  sea  melt 
in  the  spring  sun?    Would  the  tide  ebb  and  flow?" 

Yet  though  the  poet  in  these  and  other  passages  may  be- 
lieve this  world  to  be  only  a  reflex  of  himself,  he  cannot  help 
but  indicate  that  the  world  of  observable  objects,  interacts  up- 
on him  in  a  way  that  makes  it  possible  for  the  critic  to  speak  of 
nautre-influence.  Nature-analysis  cannot  always  mean  mere 
self-analysis;  the  poet  in  so  far  as  he  is  a  poet  and  a  creator 
of  plastic  forms,  must  have  an  objective  attitude  toward  na- 
ture, and  Tieck  in  his  most  transcendental  period  does  live 
outside  of  himself  and  not  in  a  world  purely  ideal.  Nature  is 
ever  present  before  one's  eyes,  as  he  himself  makes  the 
stranger  tell  the  drunken  miner  in  "Der  Alte  vom  Berge ;"°  it 
is  this  nature  that  he  emphasizes,  in  which  he  sees  bonds  of 
sympathy  with  man,  and  whose  cult  is  a  continual  source  of 
happiness. 

It  is  curious  that  even  from  those  of  whom  he  speaks  with 
the  greatest  reverence,  Tieck  drew  much  less  than  would  be 
expected.  Their  influence  sank  but  little  into  his  character 
and  one  is  tempted  to  say  that  though  he  was  violently  moved, 
he  was  never  deeply  moved.  It  is  really  remarkable  that  a  man 

'Poems,    150. ^^XXIV.,    22. ^"XXVII..    14. ^*XVIII.,    97.. 

»XXIV.,  189. 


35 

who  claimed  so  much  for  Shakespere,  and  who  was,  according 
to  his  own  statement,  so  thoroughly  steeped  in  Shakespere's 
greatness,  and  whose  magnum  opus  on  the  British  poet  did  not 
appear  for  the  very  reason  that  he  was  unable  to  digest  the 
great  mass  of  material  at  his  command,  should  have  so  little 
of  the  true  Shakesperian  spirit,  so  little  of  the  real  flavor  of 
Shakespere,  so  little  of  that  insight  into  life  that  characterizes 
him.  Tieck's  genius  never  assimilated  Shakespere,  for  the 
two  men  were  too  dissimilar  ever  thoroughly  to  blend.  And  as 
with  Shakespere,  so  with  Goethe,  though  here  the  proximity  of 
Goethe's  personality  prevented  quite  the  blind  worship  with 
which  he  regarded  Shakespere.  Now  and  again,  however,  he 
falls  into  the  same  attitude  of  mawkish  admiration  for  both. 

The  influence  of  Jacob  Boehme  is  not  quite  of  this  character. 
Ederheimer*  has  pointed  out  that  Novalis,  for  example,  was 
far  more  inwardly  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  Gorlitz  mystic 
than  was  Tieck,  who  never  organized  his  borrowings  into  a 
system.  He  remained  rather  on  the  surface  of  the  movement 
of  which  he  was  the  originator.  He  caught,  however,  the 
terminology  of  Boehme,  transmuted  many  of  his  ideas  and  em- 
phasized especially  the  erotic  character  of  his  imagery.  In 
the  main,  Boehme's  influence  is  seen  in  such  ideas  as  the  frailty 
(Zerbrechlichkeit)  of  the  human  race,  in  the  symbolic  use  of 
light  as  the  son  and  heart  of  God,  though  on  this  doctrine 
Tieck's  own  personality  has  a  strongly  qualifying  effect,  as  it 
has  also  in  passages  which  treat  of  music  as  a  heavenly  rever- 
beration. Other  ideas,  such  as  those  of  the  weaving  of  the  eter- 
nal elements,  as  well  as  the  persistent  use  of  the  imagery  of 
Geister  and  Quellen  as  part  of  the  forces  of  nature,  are  strong- 
ly reminiscent  of  Boehme,  who  also  furnished  much  material 
on  the  origin  of  evil  and  on  the  omnipresence  of  God. 

The  omnipresence  of  God  plays  a  great  role  in  Tieck's  na- 
ture sense,  especially  in  a  discussion  of  God  in  nature.     The 

*Ederheimer,  Jakob  Boehmes  Einfluss  auf  Ludwij?  Tieck,  Heidel- 
berg, 1904,  p.  56.  See  also  author's  article  in  the  Bulletin  of  West- 
ern Reserve  University,  Nov.,  1905,  on  the  general  relations  of  Boehme 
to  the  Romantic  School,  and  for  a  criticism  of  Ederheimer's  chron- 
ology. 


36 

idea  is  developed  in  three  stages.  These  are  the  suggestion 
of  God  in  nature,  the  revelation  of  God  through  nature,  and 
the  coincidence  of  God  and  nature ;  but  it  must  be  explained  at 
once  that  these  three  stadia  are  not  found  each  at  a  distinct 
period  in  Tieck's  career.  They  interchange  rather,  with  al- 
most kaleidoscopic  rapidity. 

The  method  of  approach  may  be  that  man  passes  from 
religion  to  nature,  instead  of  from  nature  into  thoughts  of 
God.  Such  a  process  is  found  in  "Sternbald"  where  Franz' 
gaze  wanders  from  the  pictures  at  the  altar  out  into  the  open, 
which  is  alive  with  a  certain  religious  emotion.^  So  in  "Geno- 
veva"  the  close  connection  of  nature  imagery  and  religion  is 
very  strongly  felt,  and  Genoveva  describes  the  revelation  of 
Christ  who  came  to  her  "like  a  flower  from  its  green  bonds" 
in  the  following  words  -' 

"Wie  er  gestaltet,  kann  ich  niemand  sagen, 
Was  ich  gefiihlt,  kann  keine  Zunge  sprechen. 
Was  seine  Engel  sungen.  darf  nicht  wagen 
Der  irdische  Othem  wieder  aiiszusprechen, 
Wie  wenn  nach  harten  diistern  Wintertagen, 
Der  Friihling  durch  die  Finsterniss  will  brechen, 
Und  in  dem  Fruhling  Friihling  sich  entziindet, 
Aus  Blume  sich  noch  eine  Bluthe  windet. 

Wie  wenn  das  Morgenroth  die  Knospe  ware. 

Aus  der  die  Himmelsblum'  sich  musst'  entfalten, 

Und  alles  sich  bis  in  die  hochste  Sphare 
j      Zu  einem  bliihnden  Purpurkelch  gestalten, 
[      Und  Sonn  und  Mond.  der  Sterne  machtge  Heere 
1      Im  Lauf  zu  einem  Kranze  stille  halten. 
\     So  sah  ich  Christum  vor  mir  niedersteigen." 

In  his  poem  on  Holy  Week,  Tieck  employs  the  process  as 
an  expedient,  handling  it  with  considerable  skill ;  he  combines 

*XVI.,  66.     It  is  interesting  to  note  how  Sternbald  couples  nature 
and  God  with  his  friend  Sebastian,  the  model  for  whom  was  Wack- 
enroder.     It  is  evident  that  Tieck  associated   him  very  closely  with 
this  phase  of  his  development,  for  he  returns  to  the  idea  not  only  in 
the  Phantasien  iiber  die  Kunst,  but  in  a  later  sonnet  to  Wackenroder, 
written  after  the  latter's  death,  where  he  says, 
"Dann  sah  ich  dich  .  .  . 
Einsam  Natur  und  Gott  und  Himmel  lieben." 
Cf.  XVI.,  12;  Phantasien,  133;  Poems,  154. ^IL.  87. 


/^ 


37 

as  in  "Sternbald"  the  artistic  with  the  religious  emotions,  and 
these  with  the  growing  twilight,  and  ends  the  poem  in  an 
elegiac  mood  of  piety.  Nature  is  not  used  in  any  way  as  an 
emotional  stimulus,  but  is  subtly  brought  into  relationship  with 
the  religious  mood  :* 

"Wie  die  Sonne  tiefer  und  tiefer  sinkt, 

Leuchtet  der  rothe  Strahl 

Wundersam   in   Buonarotti's    Schopfung  hinein. 

Die  Lichter  erloschen 

Eins  nach  dem  andern. 

Die  Abendrothe  sinkt, 

Und  Dammerung  und  Dunkcl 

Ruht  auf  der  bewegten  Menge, 

So  wie  die  letzten  Tone  verklingen." 

In  "Eine  Sommerreise"  the  same  feeling  is  set  forth,  but  the 
picture  is  that  of  a  Ragnarok,  a  Gdtterddmmerung,  which 
with  the  dawning  of  the  day  becomes  a  resurrection  and  a  new 
being  as  faith  is  renewed.' 

In  "Der  Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen/'"  the  sunset  melts  into 
a  religious  mood;  "At  this  moment  the  veil  of  clouds  parted 
at  the  horizon,  and  the  sinking  sun  threw  a  purple  flood  of 
light  into  the  black  sky  above,  a  red  fire  poured  over  the  vine- 
yards; bush,  tree  and  vine  sparkled  in  the  glow;  behind,  the 
woods  gleamed  and,  as  one  looked  up,  there  stood  the  peaks  of 
the  distant  Cevennes  in  the  roseate  light ;  at  the  left,  the  water- 
fall sprang  like  blood  from  the  precipitous  rock,  and  the  whole 
room,  the  table  and  the  guests  were  all  as  if  bathed  in  blood, 
so  that  at  this  moment  the  candles  burned  but  dimly  and  the 
fire  in  the  chimney-place  flickered  as  with  a  bluish  light.  The 
rain  had  ceased,  a  solemn  silence  pervaded  nature,  no  leaf  stir- 
red, only  the  brooks  babbled  and  the  glowing  waterfall  roared 
out  its  melody.  The  old  man  looked  up,  as  if  he  were  praying 
silently,  and  a  tear  come  to  his  large  eye;  the  blond  young 
man  put  down  his  knife  and  fork  and  folded  his  hands; 
the  huntsman  looked  shyly  from  under  his  great  eyebrows; 
the  pastor  tried  to  put  on  a  sanctimonious  look.  .  .  ."  In  the 
same  novelette,   the  religious  pilgrimage    to    the    shrine    of 

'Poems,  285.  'XXIII.,  37-8.  »XXVI..  105. 


38 

\  the  Virgin  is  connected  with  a  renewal  of  the  nature  sense  of 
the  peasants  as  well  as  of  their  other  feelings.  Yet  again  and 
even  more  explicitly:  the  conversion  of  Mazel  in  the  story- 
takes  place  through  a  desire  to  explain  the  wonders  of  the 
visible  world  and  with  the  same  nature  imagery  that  was 
noticed  in  connection  with  the  extract  from  "Genoveva," 
"...  my  heart  sprang  open  like  the  rose  from  the  bud  on 
a  spring  morning,  and  the  Lord  was  in  me."'  So  Tieck  con- 
nects nature  and  God  in  many  ways :  the  thorn  may  be  a  sign 
of  the  resurrection  of  Christ  and  the  Eternal  may  speak  to 
man  in  the  terrors  of  the  night  or  in  the  howling  of  the  storm. 
Nature  may  be  conceived  as  more  than  merely  suggest- 
ing God.  It  may  in  a  thousand  forms  reveal  the  Deity  to  man 
and  yet  not  be  identical  with  that  Deity.  Nature  may  interpret 
God  as  something  apart  from  itself  or  He  may  melt  into  it 
through  various  intermediary  stages.  In  this  aspect  nature  is 
conceived  as  the  vestment  of  God,  as  the  dead  mass  which  is 
vivified  by  His  breath,  as  the  home  of  God,  and  its  mysteri- 
ous springs  are  united  with  the  innermost  soul  of  man,  but  it 
never  quite  becomes  God.''  The  real  personal  relation  between 
man  and  nature  is  that  which  leads  to  the  Deity. 

This  is  illustrated  by  several  passages  from  the  earlier 
works.  So  Omar  in  "Abdallah"  says :  "The  power  of  healing 
issues  from  a  thousand  plants,  but  the  Creator  does  not  appear 
immediately  before  us;  feeble  human  nature  would  be  too 
terrified  before  Him;  He  puts  aside  his  fearfulness  and  in 
beautiful  blossoms  the  reason  of  man  finds  the  power  of  the 
Good."  In  "Sternbald,"  for  example,  it  is  more  clearly  stated. 
Here  God  is  represented  as  clothing  Himself  in  love  in  order 
not  to  terrify  man,  just  as  love  is  represented  as  uniting  with 
nature  in  the  same  way.  More  definite  and  with  such  strong 
reminiscence  of  Boehme  that  the  excerpt  is  better  left  untrans- 
lated, in  order  that  the  linguistic  minutiae  may  be  unimpaired, 
is  another  statement  in  the  same  novel:  "So  hat  sich  der 
grossmachtige     Schopfer     heimlicher     und    kindlicherweise 

'XXVI,,  297.   'XIX..  53;  cf.  XXVIL,  11. 


39 

durch  seine  Natur  unsern  schwachen  Sinnen  offenbart,  er  ist 
es  nicht  selbst,  der  zu  uns  spricht,  weil  wir  dermalen  zu 
schwach  sind  ihn  zu  verstehn ;  aber  er  winkt  uns  zu  sich,  und 
in  jedem  Moose,  in  jeglichem  Gesteine  ist  eine  heimliche  Zif- 
fer  verborgen."  Later  on  in  the  same  interview  between 
Franz  and  the  old  painter,  nature  is  spoken  of  as  the  cover- 
ing of  the  subHme.  The  poem  "Die  Tone"  has  a  lyric  expres- 
sion of  the  same  thought : 

"In  Form,  Gestalt,  wohin  dein  Auge  sah. 

In  Farbenglanz  ist  der  Ew'ge  nah, 

Doch  wie  ein  Ratsel  steht  er  vor  dir  da, 

Er  ist  so  nah  und  doch  so  weit  zuruck, 

Du  siehst  and  fiihlst,  dann  flieht  er  deinem  Blick, 

Dem  korperschweren  Blick  kann's  nie  gelingen. 

Sich  in  den  Unsichtbaren  Blick  kann's  nie  gelingen, 

Entfemter  noch  um  mehr  gesucht  zu  sein.  '   f 

Verbarg  er  in  die  Tone  sich  hinein.    ..."  i 

The  same  idea  is  categorically  stated  in  a  poem  to  Novalis, 

"So  giebt  Natur  uns  tausend  Liebesblickc, 
Damit  der  Mensch  der  Gottheit  Liebe  leme," 

In  "Der  Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen"  Edmond  feels  the 
revelation  and  understands  the  deep  lament  of  forest  and 
mountain  and  stream  and  learns  that  it  is  the  Word  of 
the  Eternal  which  he  hears.  In  "Dichterleben"  there  is  the 
somewhat  Biblical  idea  expressed  that  the  Eternal  does  not 
manifest  Himself  in  the  storm  but  in  the  soft  rustling  of  the 
trees  and  in  the  "Thanksgiving  hymn  of  the  forest."  The 
same  thought  occurs  in  "Tod  des  Dichters."  Here  the  inspired 
prophet  is  said  to  have  understood  the  ineffable  Jehovah  not 
in  the  storm  but  "im  sanften  linden  Sauseln."  In  the  same 
book  the  general  thought  finds  two  expressions:  "What  are 
fruits  and  flowers,  rock  and  sea,  animals  and  men  other  than 
significant  signs  and  tokens  in  which  the  eternally  creative 
force  has  written  its  thoughts  and  registered  them  there?" 
And  finally  Christoforo  says  that  he  suffers  from  the  malady 
of  wishing  to  bring  his  whole  faith  into  accord  with  all  nature. 
These  illustrative  passages  will  serve  to  show  how  Tieck 
makes  nature  develop  an  idea  of  God  in  man  and  how  religion 


40 

is  interwoven  with  God  as  an  illuminating  power.  It  is  not 
merely  external  suggestion  but  reaction  after  suggestion,  an 
attempt  to  portray  the  desire  of  the  soul  to  approximate  divin- 
ity through  that  which  impinges  on  the  consciousness  of  man. 

The  last  stage  is  an  absolute  identification  of  God  with 
nature.  It  is  more  than  a  mere  seeing  of  God  in  the  manifes- 
tations of  the  universe^  this  fore-stage  which  has  been  dis- 
cussed and  through  which  Tieck  was  continually  passing.  Such 
an  identification  was  a  part  of  Boehme's  doctrine  and  Tieck 
was  no  doubt  confirmed  in  his  ideas  by  what  he  read  in  the 
works  of  the  shoemaker  mystic,  but  it  is  going  too  far  to 
say  that  he  drew  all  of  his  ideas  from  him.  In  "Le  Paysan 
Perverti"  of  Retif  de  la  Bretonne,  the  source  which  Tieck 
himself  assigns  for  "William  Lovell/'  there  are  several  pas- 
sages which  might  have  led  him  to  such  ideas  independently 
of  Boehme.  So  the  Abbe  says,  "God,  the  universal  principle, 
nature,  are  three  words  which  express  the  same  thing";  he 
continues  to  expand  the  thought  in  a  rationalistic  strain  and 
speaks  of  "Nature  or  God"  and  of  the  world  as  an  emanation 
of  God.  In  Tieck  there  was  a  natural  inclination  to  see  the 
universe  in  this  way. 

In  the  young  Tieck  one  notices  a  continual  struggle  with 
these  ideas,  and  nowhere  is  the  struggle  more  apparent  than 
in  "Abdallah."  Abdallah,  like  Faust,  wishes  all  nature  for  his 
province  and  like  Faust  tries  to  approach  the  kernel  of  the 
world  through  a  series  of  material  pleasures,  but  finds  in  these 
no  salvation  and  in  the  end  thoroughly  deceived,  loses  all  where 
he  had  hoped  to  gain  all.  He  makes  the  whole  object  of  his 
existence  the  possession  of  the  Sultan's  daughter.  To  obtain 
her  he  commits  murder  and  parricide,  and  finally  cheated  of 
his  pleasure  by  the  horrified  woman,  dies  of  a  diseased  imag- 
ination in  an  access  of  madness  and  dread.  His  teacher  and 
tempter  is  Omar  who,  baffled  in  his  desire  to  find  wisdom  and 
the  key  to  the  universe,  becomes  a  pupil  of  Mondal,  who  is  a 
part  of  Tieck's  machinery  of  terror  and  an  attempt  to  put 
into  concrete  form  his  passionate  youthful  misanthropy.     As 


41 

punishment  for  a  good  deed  done  in  a  moment  of  relaxation, 
Omar  is  made  to  cause  the  sin  of  parricide,  the  instrument  of 
which  is  the  unlucky  Abdallah.  Around  this  plot,  developed 
by  Omar  to  undermine  the  already  wavering  character  of  the 
young  dreamer  and  enthusiast,  is  woven  a  philosophy  of  life 
purely  hedonistic  and  selfishly  sensual. 

As  part  of  this  is  an  idea  of  nature  somewhat  as  follows, — 
confused  and  not  vivisectionable,  but  with  a  certain  thread  of 
consistency  running  through  it. 

Nature  is  God,  and  yet  God  as  God  stands  outside  of  nature, 
though  when  He  is  nature  as  nature.  He  is  as  much  God.  Na- 
ture as  nature,  however,  is  itself  apart  from  God  and  in  this  as- 
pect is  a  beneficent  force.   The  God  who  stands  outside  of  na- 
ture is  not  the  beneficient  deity,  and  against  him  man  is  help-  ' 
less.    But  since  God  is  the  world,  that  is  not  only  the  visible 
universe,  but  also  the  immaterial  and  intangible  world  of  ideas 
and  morals,  therefore  everything  is  from  Him  and  there  can  \ 
be  no  evil.    Yet  again,  God  stands  outside  of  nature  and  is  ; 
malign;    therefore  it  must    be    concluded    that    to    struggle 
against  this   all-powerful   spirit   is    impossible.      Tieck    now 
unites  these  two  conceptions,  first  that  there  is  no  evil,  and    ' 
second,  that  man  cannot  struggle,  into  the  afore-mentioned 
sensualism,  arriving  at  this  philosophy  by  a  process  of  reason- 
ing which  deduces  from  the  postulate  that  man  is  no  better 
than  the  beast,  the  conclusion  that  whatever  he  does  is  right. 
Abdallah  for  a  time  makes  a  show  of  resistance  to  this  doc- 
trine, but  in  the  end  meets  a  fate  which  the  pursuance  of  it 
implies. 

But  while  it  is  held  that  God  equals  God  with  the  attend- 
ant circumstances  of  divinity,  at  the  same  time  Tieck  feels 
that  nature  equals  nature  without  any  reference  to  its  iden- 
tity with  God.  As  mere  nature,  it  has  special  powers  to  make 
man  happy  or  miserable,  but  especially,  as  will  be  shown  in 
the  remarks  on  animism,  Tieck  sees  in  nature  a  certain  sym-  ■ 
pathy  with  man  in  each  varying  mood.  In  this  aspect  nature  ' 
has  a  separate  living  organism.    The  keynote,  however,  of  the 


42 

nature  philosophy  of  "Abdallah,"  if  it  can  be  said  to  have  a 
philosophy  of  nature,  is  that  the  world  is  God.  To  illustrate . 
"Where  should  the  Unending  find  a  place  for  Himself  in  cre- 
ation? He  embraces  and  permeates  the  world,  the  world  is 
Gk)d ;  in  one  primal  substance  He  stands  before  us  in  a  million 
forms;  we  ourselves  are  a  part  of  His  being."  Nothing  can 
be  more  plainly  pantheistic;  the  world  in  its  million  mani- 
festations is  God.  In  another  place:  "In  rock  and  thicket 
the  Incomprehensible  stands  before  me — brought  nearer  to 
me,  and  yet  in  that  way  all  the  farther  off."  The  reason  for 
this  is  given  later  on  where  Abdallah  says  that  the  Creator 
does  not  manifest  Himself  directly  to  us,  but  only  through  the 
flowers  does  the  human  mind  find  Him.  Tieck  means  by 
"nearer  and  yet  farther  off"  that  God  in  such  a  view  of  Him 
can  no  longer  be  the  gracious  all-forgiving  Father ;  by  being 
brought  nearer  to  Him  in  this  actual  physical  sense  the  pious 
youth  who  was  or  might  be  accustomed  to  flee  to  Him  for 
rest  and  comfort  is  deprived  of  this  spiritual  solace.  The 
corollary  idea  that  in  a  worship  of  nature  the  young  man  is 
compensated  for  that  which  he  loses  by  this  approach  to  God, 
is  not  developed. 

The  nearest  that  Tieck  comes  to  this  is  where  he  has  Abdal- 
lah cry:  "O  that  I  could  plunge  myself  into  the  sea  of  the 
immeasurable  Godhead,  draw  these  myriad  treasures  into 
my  bosom,"  though  here  again  it  is  rather  a  desire  to  identify 
himself  entirely  with  that  nature  of  which  he  says  that  he  is 
a  ray,  than  a  real  worship. 

Nature  then  is  God,  and  the  fiery  human  soul  exhibits  a 
desire  to  become  one  with  it.  But  when  nature  is  outside  of 
God  and  has  a  separate  living  organism  with  feelings  like 
those  of  man,  there  is  a  curious  duality  of  conception;  it  is 
even,  in  this  stage,  something  vivified  by  God's  breath :  "One 
vital  force  flies  through  nature  and  millions  of  creatures  re- 
ceive like  alms  a  spark  of  life— they  are— and  surrender  their 
life  again  and  become  dead  dust."     In  the  end  and  under  it 


43 

all  there  is  nothing  but  a  grinning  skeleton.  Even  in  this  God 
has  a  part:  "Is  it  not  His  breath  which  vivifies  the  dust?  All 
actions  come  back  to  Him  and  announce  themselves  as  belong- 
ing to  Him :  His  shadow  wanders  about  in  a  thousand  forms ; 
where  He  looks,  there  He  sees  only  Himself."  So  then  God, 
while  conceived  as  identical  with  nature,  is  held  to  be  so  out- 
side of  it  that  He  can  breathe  into  it  the  breath  of  life  and  in 
punishing  it  can  punish  only  Himself:  "Soil  er,  kann  er  sich 
selber  strafen?"  The  bearing  on  the  ethical  trend  of  Omar's 
teachings  is  obvious.  The  idea  is  carried  even  farther :  "We 
are  but  a  stuff  in  which  unfamiliar  forces  become  visible — a 
great  game  ruled  by  a  strange  Power,"  a  thought  which  is  as 
old  as  man  and  which  finds  its  most  modern  expression  in 
Fitz  Gerald's  version  of  the  "Rubaiyat," 

"But  helpless  Pieces  of  the  Game  He  plays 
Upon  this  Chequer-board  of  Nights  and  Days." 

The  confusion  in  Tieck's  mind  and  the  effort  to  clarify  his 
ideas  will  at  once  be  apparent  from  the  foregoing  summary. 
The  residuum  seems  to  have  been  a  tendency  to  see  the  unity 
of  all  creation  under  various  forms,  but  without  essential  dif- 
ferences. Omar  impresses  this  on  his  pupil's  mind,  and  in 
"Wald,  Garten  und  Berg,"  there  are  two  expressions  of  the 
same  idea.  "Der  Wald"  is  made  to  say,  "Verschiedenheit  ist 
nur  Schein"  and  the  "Quellen"  sing: 

"Alles  alles  ist  verbunden 
Ein  Herz  nur,  das  alles  re  get." 

Such  an  idea  may  easily  develop  into  the  omnipresence  of 
God,  especially  in  so  religious  a  work  as  "Genoveva,'*  where 
the  heroine  prays  to  the  Almighty  and  omnipresent  One  who 
is  in  the  grass  and  the  stars  and  whose  dwelling  is  the  firma- 
ment. How  this  doctrine,  interwoven  with  Platonic  princi- 
ples took  form  in  a  later  novelette,  can  be  seen  from  the  fol- 
lowing: "As  every  appearance,  every  form  is  perishable  and 
lives  only  in  disappearing,  so  it  is  just  on  that  account  eternal, 
for  down  to  the  very  worm,  to  the  thinnest  moss  on  the  rock, 


44 

everything  has  grown  up  in  accordance  with  a  primal  form 
in  accordance  with  an  immortal  idea,  and  every  thread  in 
creation,  every  smallest  insect  indicates  a  fundamental  thought, 
the  copy,  the  picture,  the  temporal,  the  imperishable.  Thus 
\ve  see  and  perceive  oracles  ever,  and  it  is  a  great  phrase 
when  we  call  the  Invisible  the  Omnipresent." 

So  in  **Vittoria  Accorombona"  Ottavio  says  that  man  seeks 
God  in  the  world  and  in  temple  and  palace  and  yet  He  is 
close  beside  him  always  and  ever.  Another  passage  in  the 
same  story  approaches  the  thought  from  a  different  stand- 
point and  develops  the  idea  with  emphasis  on  the  love-ele- 
ments. The  most  definite  expression  of  the  doctrine  is  in 
the  words  of  William,  the  weak-minded  boy  of  "Der  fiinf- 
zehnte  November."  He  sees  in  the  whole  external  universe, 
in  the  very  movements  of  the  brute  beasts,  the  real  being  of 
the  Deity,  and  since  Tieck  tries  to  express  through  him  the 
ultimate  teaching  of  the  novelette,  his  sayings  are  all  the  more 
significant.  So  all  through  his  life  Tieck  placed  stress  on  the 
permeating  presence  of  God,  not  as  a  purely  religious  tenet, 
but  as  part  of  his  poetic  confession  of  faith,  as  part  of  that 
which  he  drew  from  his  sources,  and  a  great  share  of  that 
which  he  really  drew  from  nature  itself. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

TIECK'S    NATURALISTIC    INTERPRETATIONS    OF 

NATURE 

The  interpretations  here  set  forth  predicate  nothing  but  the 
simple  every-day  attitude  toward  nature;  they  are  not  pe- 
culiar to  Tieck.  He  expresses  with  a  certain  naive  open- 
ness of  mind  the  interaction  of  the  commonest  phenomena 
and  man,  and  of  these  the  most  patent  are  touched  in  this 
chapter.  It  is  hardly  to  be  hoped  that  it  will  offer  anything 
new  except  the  Tieckian  flavor  of  the  general  congeries  of 
interpretations. 

Before  the  more  complicated  relations  between  man  and 
nature  are  possible,  he  must  observe.  Tieck  typifies  this  first 
stage,  the  simple  value  of  direct  observation,  in  the  lines  from 
"Der  Autor:" 

"Die  Sonne  schaut  auf  dich,  so  schaue  sie  auch  an. 
Die  Erde  auch  betrachtet,  so  hast  du  wohl  gethan." 

Such  direct  observation  begins  with  the  smallest  and  ends 
with  the  largest  phenomena.  Abdallah,  for  example,  is  sur- 
rounded by  a  silence  so  intense  that  he  hears  the  worm  crawl- 
ing through  the  grass,  while  the  whole  activity  of  a  square  foot 
of  earth  is  pictured  in  "Peter  Lebrecht":  "How  remarkable 
a  square  foot  of  earth  can  appear  to  one !  If  we  confine  our 
attention  to  this  small  space,  we  discover  even  here  wonderful 
events  and  remarkable  revolutions.  Black  insects  busily  and 
eagerly  take  long  pilgrimages  to  their  distant  homes ;  they 
toil,  too,  through  the  blades  of  grass  without  knowing  whither 
they  are  going — just  like  man ;  ants  writhe  on  the  ground 

and  drag  about  little  stones  and  grains  of  sand 

Wonderful  grasses  stand  all  around  and  are  to  these  dwellers 
of  the  earth  great  forests."     The  passage  continues  at  some 


46 

length  in  the  same  strain  and  mingles  observation  with 
various  moral  reflections/ 

Probably  nowhere  more  than  in  "Die  Vogelscheuche,"  that 
novel  in  which  Tieck  almost  more  than  in  any  other  work 
loosed  the  bonds  of  his  fancy,  gave  free  rein  to  his  imagin- 
ation and  wove  truth  and  unreality  so  madly  together  that  it 
is  impossible  to  disengage  the  one  from  the  other  in  the 
ludicrous  tapestry,  is  found  the  sense  of  the  minute  in  nature. 
Here  the  real  world,  the  sober  every-day  world  of  Philistin- 
ism, is  visited  by  the  maddest  and  most  fantastic  of  elves, 
elves  who  have  a  real  existence  in  this  world  and  are  a  part 
of  its  daily  doings.  A  scarecrow  is  conceived  as  the  home  of 
a  comet  which,  too,  is  an  elf  fleeing  from  pursuit;  the  scare- 
crow becomes  the  symbol  of  the  Aufkldrung,  is  freed  from 
the  elf's  presence,  remains  human  flesh  and  blood,  solves 
mysteries  by  the  aid  of  second  sight,  marries  the  daughter  of 
its  fabricator,  and  in  the  end  boldly  confides  to  her  that  it  is 
still  a  scarecrow.  The  variety  of  fantastic  impressions  grows 
with  each  word,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  whole  is  a  ve- 
hicle for  Tieck's  satire  and  for  an  expression  of  his  dislike  of 
certain  schools  and  creeds,  for  he  betrays  besides  this  ten- 
dentiousness  a  fine  sense  of  attention  to  and  feeling  for  the 
great  mass  of  creeping  and  budding  things  that  man  does  not 
usually  notice.  His  sympathy  with  the  bee  and  bird  and  his 
insight  into  the  life  of  the  smallest  living  creature  are  almost 
unrivaled.  Tieck  himself  is  the  fairy  Heimchen  who  sees  the 
wonderful  juices  make  their  way  up  from  the  roots  of  the 
tree  into  the  pulpy  mass  of  the  cherry,  and  he  is  that  fairy 
who  knows  the  relation  of  sparrow  and  swallow  in  their  nest- 
making;  all  of  his  observation  is  made  with  true  poetic  feel- 
ing. 

From  mere  observation  to  appreciation  is  a  short  step. 
This  appreciation,  which  may  arise  from  the  simple  joy  of 
living,  is  usually  found  associated  in  Tieck  with  the  joy  of 
motion,  of  coursing  through  field  and  forest,  of  riding  out  into 

'XV.,  25.     Cf.    Werther's  Leiden,  letter  of  May  10. 
For  literary  satire  on  direct  observation,  X.,   118. 


47 

the  open.  Both  the  countess  in  "Franz  Sternbald"  and  Mar- 
cebille  in  "Kaiser  Octavianus,"  types  of  Tieck's  young  and 
full-blooded  heroines,  are  imbued  with  this  feeling,  which  is 
generally  characteristic  of  "Sternbald,"  the  "musical"'  wan- 
derings of  whose  hero  through  the  world  are  attended  by  notes 
like  this: 

"Wohlauf  es  ruft  der  Sonnenschein, 
Hinaus  in  Gottes  freie  Welt! 
Geht  munter  in  das  Land  hinein, 
Und  wandelt  iiber  Berg  und  Feld."' 

And  so  on  through  the  whole  poem. 

Young  Peter  in  "Magelone,"*  is  roused  by  the  words  of 
the  strange  harper  into  saying,  "No  greater  joy  for  the  young 
knight  than  to  ride  out  through  vale  and  field;"  while  in 
"Die  Elfen"  the  joy  arises  from  a  sense  of  well-being  and  hap- 
piness in  the  generosity  of  nature:  "It  is  so  green  here,  the 
whole  hamlet  is  splendid  with  thickly  planted  fruit-trees,  the 
earth  is  laden  with  beautiful  plants  and  flowers,  all  the  houses 
are  cheerful  and  clean,  the  inhabitants  well-to-do,  yes,  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  forests  here  are  more  beautiful  and  the  skies 
bluer,  and  as  far  as  the  eye  can  see  one  can  gaze  his  fill  in 
the  joy  and  pleasure  of  generous  nature."*  How  all  the  ele- 
ments unite  to  bring  gladness  to  the  heart  of  man  is  well- 
expressed  in  "Musikalische  Leiden  und  Freuden :"  "It  is  a  de- 
light to  see  and  to  feel  the  curve  of  the  hills,  the  little  river, 
the  magnificent  green,  and  then  the  lights  and  shades.  Is 
there  any  pleasure  like  this  or  even  approximating  it?"' 

In  a  thoroughly  minor  key,  with  the  feeling  that  "home-keep- 
ing hearts  are  happiest,"  is  the  expression  in  "Die  Gesellschaft 
auf  dem  Lande,"'  and  like  this  the  state  of  mind  attributed  to 
the  martyr  Brousson  in  "Der  Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen,"' 
whose  desire  once  more  to  visit  his  beloved  mountains,  ra- 
vines and  clear  streams  is  in  a  large  measure  the  cause  of  his 

*The  word  is  Goethe's.     See  Donner,  Der  Einfluss  Wilhelm  Meis- 

ters  auf  den   Roman  der  Romantiker,  p.  61. ^XVI.,   103-4. ^"IV., 

297. nv.,  366. 'XVII.,   342. "XXIV.,  406. ^^XXVI.,   210. 


48 

fall.  Indeed,  it  hardly  need  be  said  that  the  appreciation  of 
nature  by  the  characters  in  Tieck  is  a  constant  factor.  His 
young  men  and  women  are  all  imbued  with  it  and  even  the 
old  countess  in  "Der  Schutzgeist"  can  speak  of  "Die  plotz- 
liche  Freude  an  der  Natur"  as  one  of  the  nameless  causeless 
emotions  of  early  youth  which  enrich  our  lives.^  The  whole 
basis  of  the  novel  "Waldeinsamkeit"  is  just  this  feeling;  the 
inability  to  indulge  it  is  felt  as  a  lack,  so  that  sick  men  long 
to  be  out  in  nature,  and  one  of  the  first  sentiments  after  a 
severe  illness  is  the  nature  sense.  So  for  instance,  in  "Abend- 
gesprache :"  "My  longing  was  all  the  stronger  because  I  had 
just  recovered  from  an  attack  of  typhoid  fever  ;*'^  and 
in  "Vittoria  Accorombona"  Pepoli  says:  "Only  two  kinds  of 
people  know  how  to  appreciate  the  happiness  of  the  air,  of 
the  landscape  and  of  the  clear  weather :  the  sick  man  and  the 
prisoner."  ^ 

Such  pleasure  is  a  part  of  the  inner  being  of  man.  Tieck 
feels  and  makes  his  characters  feel  that  nature  is  too  sacred 
to  be  treated  lightly,  and  that  one  must  be  equal  to,  and  ready 
for  the  enjoyment,  and  not  expect  to  have  it  turned  on  by  a 
tap.  And  so  he  says  in  "Der  Mondsiichtige :"  "One  cannot  at 
all  times  absorb  nature  and  art — but  alas  for  him  who  has  no 
longing  for  them!"*  In  "Tod  des  Dichters"  he  symbolizes 
this  in  the  person  of  the  child  who  had  her  regular  hours  for 
the  enjoyment  and  contemplation  of  nature.  The  ever-insis- 
tent note  of  fun  is  found  with  a  reminiscence  of  Touchstone 
in  "Das  Zauberschloss"  in  the  contrast  of  the  fine  view  and 
the  weary  legs."^ 

Theodore  in  "Phantasus"  emphasizes  the  method  of  enjoy- 
ment which  is  "Zerstreutsein,  da  es  doch  in  einfachen  Men- 
schen  oft  nur  das  wahre  Beisammensein  mit  der  Natur  ist,"" 
but  who  afterwards  cries  out  that  they  are  forgetting  to  enjoy 
nature  in  the  very  discussion  of  it.  Ernst  adds  to  this,  "Alles 
tont  auch  unbewusst  in  unsere  Seele  ein."     Quite  parallel  to 

^XXV.,  45;  note  how  often  this  sudden  joy  is  expressed  in  Tieck. 

^"XXV.,   206.— ^Part   1,   221,   Cf.    Antonio   in   Phantasus. ^*XXL, 

110. »XXI.,226. nV.,   13,   Cf.    XXV.,   85;   Vitt.   Ace.    1,   76,   for 

eflFect. 


49 

this  is  a  remark  made  in  "Der  junge  Tischlermeister :" 
"There  is  a  quiet  passivity  which  without  observing  and  with- 
out being  itself  conscious  of  the  impression,  often  enjoys  na- 
ture the  most  worthily."^  In  thorough  keeping  with  these  ex- 
cerpts is  the  statement  in  "Musikalische  Leiden  und  Freu- 
den" :  "Believe  me,  the  romantic  environment  plays  and 
shimmers  unconsciously,  but  on  that  acount  all  the  more  pleas- 
antly in  our  souls."* 

The  desire  to  enjoy  nature,  especially  in  this  way,  suggests 
a  return  to  it  and  brings  to  mind  the  great  exponent  of  the 
doctrine  of  the  return,  Rousseau.  According  to  Tieck's  own 
statement,"  he  became  acquainted  with  the  "Nouvelle  Heloise" 
on  his  trip  to  the  Harz  in  1792,  but  after  the  first  flush  of  en- 
thusiasm had  passed  away,  he  conceived  a  dislike  for  the  whole 
on  account  of  the  colorlessness  of  its  conclusion.  Even  in  his 
earlier  years,  however,  Tieck  stresses  in  one  way  or  another, 
the  effort  to  get  close  to  nature,  though  without  any  attempt 
to  do  away  with  civilization  or  to  ameliorate  aught  but  the 
individual.  The  desire  to  enjoy  is  a  part  of  the  return  which 
is  accompanied  by  all  of  Tieck's  longing  for  the  wide  view, 
with  the  entire  Romantic  projection  of  self  toward  the  unat- 
tainable. 

The  desire  to  get  away  from  city  life  and  its  distractions 
and  to  live  more  largely,  closer  to  nature,  is  found,  for  exam- 
ple, in  "Der  Abschied"  where  Louise  says:  "The  great 
world?  Was  it  not  always  my  heart's  desire  to  live  in  the 
country,  for  you  and  for  lovely  nature  ?  The  little  great  world 
where  one  whirls  around  forever  in  a  circle  of  ennui,  affecta- 
tion and  hollow  compliments — ah  no,  I  feel  that  it  is  better 
here.  I  have  nothing  left  to  wish  for."*  And  her  husband 
goes  on  to  praise  the  sweet  monotony,  the  gradual  growing  to 
know  nature  as  the  most  delightful  features  of  their  life.  So 
too  Amalia  in  the  midst  of  London's  noise  wants  to  be  out  in 
Blondley,  and  Lovell  longs  to  rest  "in  the  lap  of  a  rural  soli- 
tude," while  Mortimer  plans  for  a  country  life  in  which  he 

'XXVIIL,   147. 'XVIII.,  343. "Kopke  I.,  225. *II.,  279. 


50 

and  Karl  Wilmot  can  read,  chat,  ride  and  hunt  together.' 
Somewhat  differently  does  Doris  portray  his  life  in  the  quiet 
of  the  country, 

"So  leb  ich  hier  in  ewig  gleicher  Ruhe, 

Den  einen  Tag  so  wie  den  andern  fort. 

Fernab   vom   weltlichen   Getiimmel   schleichen 

Mir  Wochen,  Monden,  Jahre  sanft  dahin. 

Kein  Wunsch  stort  hier  mein  Leben.     .     .    . 

Die  Sehnsucht  zieht  mich  nicht  nach  fremder  Gegend."^ 

This  is  the  quiet  peace  of  the  countryman  who  lives  in  na- 
ture from  choice,  and  so,  too,  Heinrich  cannot  contain  himself 
for  joy  at  the  thought  of  the  attainment  of  his  happiness, 
which  is  simply  the  farmer's  life  with  its  romantic  complement 
of  songs  in  the  evening.^  Prince  Aldrovan  would  exchange 
his  hopes  for  a  shepherd's  hut  and  his  kingdom  for  a  grass- 
plot  and  a  shady  wood/  while  Andalosia  in  "Fortunat"  feels 
when  in  prison  that  the  farmer  for  all  his  hard  toil  is  better 
off  in  his  simplicity  than  he  with  his  strivings  and  disappoint- 
ments/ 

Again,  the  peasant  who  lives  immediately  with  nature 
draws  his  joys  and  sorrows  from  her  at  first  hand,"  but  Tieck 
never  insists  that  it  is  the  countryman  who  has  the  closest 
feeling  for  natural  beauty,  for  he  knew  no  doubt  that  he,  like 
the  Swiss  mountaineer,  loses  by  contact  and  familiarity  that 
spiritual  uplift  which  the  sight  and  sense  of  nature  give  those 
more  unaccustomed  to  it. 

For  Tieck's  attitude  toward  the  return  in  general,  the  epi- 
sode of  Helicanus  and  the  Waldhruder  in  "Zerbino"  is  impor- 
tant.^ The  young  man  wishes  to  leave  the  world  and  live  in 
the  solitude  of  the  forest  because  of  love.  The  hermit  cau- 
tions him  not  to  be  too  rash,  to  give  civilization  a  chance,  and 
urges  him  not  to  rail  at  mortality  until  he  has  been  a  mortal 
among  mortals,  since  it  may  be  that  it  is  not  the  world  that  is 
unworthy  of  him,  but  that  he    is    unworthy    of    the    world. 

*VI.,  27,  87,  103. ^*X.,  39,  XXVI.,  486. ^'II.,  161. ^*XI.,   161. 

»III.,  480. ^^XXVIII.,  114. ^'X.,  71,  75,  325;   Poems,  87.     So 

Emmeline  in  "Eigensinn  und  Laune"  flees  to  nature  after  her  ruin  is 
complete;  not  even  the  utmost  degradation  can  destroy  her  feeling 
for  nature. 


51 

Finally  the  Waldhruder  decides  to  put  his  theory  into  practice 
and  to  return  to  the  world,  while  the  young  man  who  proves 
by  one  of  those  romantic  recognitions,  so  calmly  indifferent  to 
probability,  to  be  his  son,  decides  to  remain.  There  is  a  cer- 
tain very  clear  element  of  common-sense  in  the  hermit  in  spite 
of  his  flight  to  the  woods. 

But  man  is  influenced  by  his  environment;  nature  affects 
him  in  manifold  ways  and  he,  says  Tieck,  who  is  not  touched 
thereby  is  a  dolt.  Men  experience  a  sense  of  delight  in  the 
pleasant  landscape ;  it  is  the  simple  action  of  the  most  approx- 
imate thing  upon  them,  and  almost  universally  they  react  in 
their  turn  upon  it.  So  in  Tieck  if  nature  is  beautiful  man  has 
a  sense  of  physical  wellbeing  when  encompassed  thereby.  Ab- 
dallah  says  to  his  friend  Raschid,  ''Come  with  me  into  the 
beautiful  out-of-door  world  ;  spring  will  make  you  more  cheer- 
ful." *  Lila  in  "Zerbino"  feels  the  pleasure  of  the  quiet  even- 
ing,''  and  Felicitas,  in  a  passage  of  extreme  poetic  power,  finds 
complete  happiness  in  idyllic  surroundings.*  In  "Tod  des 
Dichters,"  in  the  midst  of  trees  and  flowers,  the  simple  whis- 
pering of  a  fountain  causes  joy.*  Charlotte  in  "Eigensinn  und 
Laune"  gets  real  comfort  from  nature  and  says :  "When  I  was 
very  sad,  I  was  comforted  by  the  leaping  water  and  by  the 
odor  of  the  flowers."'  Nature  refreshes  and  inspires  Cleon 
in  "Zerbino" '  and  in  "William  Lovell"  directly  drives  away 
moodiness  and  makes  for  happiness  on  the  trip  from  Lyons 
to  Chambrey :  "Everywhere  the  most  beautiful  landscape  which 
will  suffer  no  sad  or  misanthropic  sentiments ;  the  fine  climate, 
sunshine, — everything  had  put  me  into  a  state  of  sensuous  in- 
toxication in  which  I  often  forgot  myself  and  like  a  child  felt 
only  the  happy  sensation  of  an  inspired  existence." '  The 
muse  of  "Der  Autor"  tells  her  protege  in  the  same  manner: 

"Es  fliehn  die  schweren,  dumpfen  Traume, 

Wie  Thai  und  Wald  sich  rings  in  Friihlingspracht  verschonen." ' 

And  so  from  the  sunlight,  at  the  sight  of  which  the  child  Lini 

'VIII.,   44.   Cf.   Vitt.   Ace,  I.,   89. ''X.,   79. ^'I.,    112. *XIX., 

259. »XXIV.,  357. 'X.,  256-7. 'VI.,  105. «XIII..  282. 


52 

cries  out,  "How  good  I  feel  again,'"  to  the  landscape  of  his 
younger  days,  in  which  the  duke  in  "Vittoria  Accorombona" 
feels  rejuvenated,*  this  note  is  heard  throughout  Tieck's  work. 
It  is  found  even  as  satire  on  itself  in  the  list  of  pleasures  which 
the  dog  Stallmeister  enumerates  in  "Zerbino."' 

It  may  be  well  to  observe  here,  in  connection  with  Tieck's 
love  of  his  fatherland,  this  sense  of  elevation  as  exemplified 
by  the  association  of  nature  with  freedom.  This  manifests 
itself  as  early  as  *'Alla  Moddin,"*  where  for  example,  Amelni 
dreams  of  freedom  and  her  dream  is  full  of  nature  imagery. 
When  liberty  is  taken  from  Alia  Moddin,  seemingly  for  the 
last  time,  his  language  is  of  the  same  kind.  The  poems  offer 
two  striking  instances  of  the  same  point  of  view.  Tieck  re- 
turned to  Germany  from  Italy  in  the  dark  days  of  1806,  the 
events  of  which  he  commemorates  in  the  following  fiery 
verses : 

"Aber  driickend  ziehn  die  Wolken 

Nah  und  naher  das  .finstere  Wetter, 

Schon  vernehm'  ich  den  Sturm, 

Schon  blitzt  es  in  der  Feme. 

Und  bald  entladet  sich  krachend 

Der  Orkan  seiner  verderblichen  Funken, 

Friihling  und  Sommer  entflohn. 

Der  Herbst  glanzt  uns  vielleicht 

Im  letzten  schonen  heitern  Tag, 

Und  die  gute  Zeit  des  Jahres 

1st  auf  immer  dahin! 

O  ware  Wahnsinn  meine  Furcht, 
Und  Kleinmuth  meine   Angst: — 
Was  soil  mir  Kraft  und  Gesundheit, 
Wenn  mein  theures,  innigst  geliebtes, 
Wenn  mein  Vaterland  zum  Tode  erkrankt? 


1st  die  Nacht  unabwendbar. 

So  lass  mich  giitig  auch  die  Morgenrothe 

Nach  unter  gesunkener  Sonne 

Wieder  froh  und  gestarkt  erscheinen." 

This  is  an  intimate  personal  expression  of  Tieck's  deepest  feel- 
ing and  therefore  the  nature  imagery  is  of  especial  interest. 
The  darkness  of  the  foregoing  picture  may  be  contrasted  with 
the  entirely  different  tone  of  the  poem  "To  a  Lover"  written 

^XI.,  279. ^»Vol.  I.,  325. ^"X.,  218. ^*XL.  279,  297. ^'Poems. 

347. 


53 

in  1 8 14  at  a  time  when  the  fate  of  the  fatherland  was  not  so 
hopeless : 

"Wonne  glanzt  von  alien  Zweigen 
Mutig  regt  sich  jedes  Reis, 
Blumenkranz'  aus  Baumen  steigen, 
Purpurroth  und  silberweiss. 

Und  bewegt  wie  Harfensaiten 
1st  die  Welt  ein  Jubelklang, 
Durch  der  Welten  Dunkelheiten 
Tont  der  Nachtigall  Gesang. 

Warum  leuchten  so  die  Felder? 
Nie  hab'  ich  dies  Griin  gesehn ! 
Lustgesang  dringt  durch  die  Walder, 
Rauschend  wie  ein  Sturmeswehn. 

Sieg  und  Freiheit  bliihn  die  Baume, 
Heil  dir,  Vaterland  !     erschallt 
Jubelnd  durch  die  griinen  Raume, 
Freiheit!  braust  der  Eichenwald."* 

But  nature  does  more  than  make  a  man  feel  merely  happy 
and  comfortable ;  it  is  represented  as  giving  him  a  firmer  hold 
on  himself.  The  morning  scene  brings  Abdallah  hope,'  and 
in  "Der  Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen'"  nature  inspires  and  gives 
strength.  The  intoxication  of  nature  is  spoken  of  in  "Eine 
Sommerreise"*  and  again  in  "Der  Mondsiichtige ;"°  the  flight 
to  the  mountains  in  "Die  Klausenburg"  is  not  only  to  distract 
but  to  strengthen."  Luis  in  "Tod  des  Dichters"  has  his  spirits 
raised  and  his  past  years  brought  back  to  him  by  a  walk  along 
the  shore,  where  a  view  of  the  distant  city  with  its  reflected 
lights,  the  odors,  the  stars,  the  echo  of  the  winds,  all  combine 
to  fill  the  scene.'  In  "Das  alte  Buch"  the  more  beautiful  the 
landscape,  the  more  Athelstan's  spirits  rise,"  while  in  "Eigen- 
sinn  und  Laune,"  the  company  is  so  impressed  by  nature  that 
it  can  scarcely  tear  itself  away  from  the  scene."  This  ad- 
vances in  Tieck  to  an  expression  of  the  full  accord  with  nature 
in  the  words,  "To  feel  the  heart  of  the  world  in  my  own 
heart."" 

'Poems,    428. »VIII,     127. ^»XXVI.,     125. ^*XXIII.,    27. 

"XXL,  84. 'XXV.,  85. 'XIX.    252. ^^XXIV.,   114. ^*V.,  498. 

"Poems,  238. 


54 

This  sense  of  accord,  of  intoxication  and  of  uplift  is  not  the 
only  phase  felt  by  Tieck.  Or  rather,  the  accord  may  be  sad 
and  the  sentiment  shades  into  pensiveness  and  elegy.  In  "Der 
Runenberg,"  there  is  a  "siisser  Wehmuth"  spoken  of  at  the 
sight  of  gardens,  cottages  and  cornfields,^  while  Tom  Thumb 
says  that  lovely  romantic  nature  is  something  quite  excellent 
for  *'es  weckt  sensiichtige  Gedanken,  dass  man  dort  sein 
mochte,  sich  einwohnen,  der  Natur  leben.''"  "Die  Berge,"  one 
of  the  Italian  poems,  expresses  this  very  concretely: 

"Wehmuth  thaiit  von  Himmel  nieder, 
Aus  den  Wolken,  dunkel  schwer, 
Sinkt  ein  dustrer  Traum  hernieder, 
Und  von  Hoffnung  bleibt  die  Seele  leer."  ^ 

The  romantic  and  sentimental  glorification  of  this  "Wehmuth" 
is  found  in  "Peter  Lebrecht" ;  "These  times  of  pure  sadness 
are  the  high  feast-days  of  the  soul  on  which  it  visits  a  holy 
temple  and  purifies  itself  from  all  that  is  earthly."*  The  rust- 
ling of  the  trees  and  the  soft  murmur  of  a  waterfall  cause 
Edmond's  soul  to  melt  into  a  soft  and  tender  emotion  in  which 
he  forgets  in  dreaming  his  plans  and  struggles.'  In  "Eine 
Sommerreise"*  traveling  brings  from  nature  a  noble  senti- 
ment which  is  characterized  as  "Wehmuth";  this  is  rather  at 
variance  with  the  bright  romantic  glamor  thrown  about  travel 
in  the  earlier  works.  It  is  interesting  to  see  in  connection  with 
the  note  of  longing  that  in  the  discussion  of  the  effect  of 
colors  on  the  senses  in  "Phantasus,"  this  is  the  predominating 
feature,  for  the  distant  blue  of  the  sky  causes  longing,  the 
purple  of  the  evening  touches,  the  yellow  tints  comfort,  and  j 
only  in  the  green  is  there  untiring  delight  to  the  eye.^ 

Tieck  neither  emphasises  nor  develops  to  any  very  great 
extent  the  direct  education  of  nature  as  such.  LoveU's  father 
remarks  on  this  power  in  a  letter  to  his  son,  though  he  stresses 
the  purely  external  and  gymnastic  sides  rather  than  the  inner 
or  spiritual.*    The  amusing  attempt  of  the  mother  of  the  two 

^IV.,  226. ^'V.,  498. ^'Poems,  238. ^*XV.,  24  ff. "^XXVI.,  287. 

^^XXIIL,  106. ^IV.,  75.    Tieck's  women  often  wear  green  dresses, 

but  Little  Red  Ridinghood  despises  the  color. ^^VL,  21. 


55 

model  children  in  "Die  verkehrte  Welt"  is  to  be  taken  as 
satire.  She  requests  that  her  offspring  be  taken  into  the  gar- 
den that  they  may  feel  nature  and  let  themselves  be  smiled  at 
by  the  roses,  a  proceeding  which  is  evidently  to  have  a  salu- 
tary effect  on  them/  A  significant  passage  is  found  in  *Than- 
tasus" ;  in  it  the  dual  relation  of  man  to  nature  and  of  nature 
to  man  is  brought  out.  Ernst  remarks  that  it  had  been  his 
wish  to  investigate,  among  other  things,  "what  environment 
surrounds  each  human  stock,  moulds  it  and  is  moulded  by  it. 
.  .  .  The  noble  race  of  the  Austrians,  .  .  who  in  their  fruit- 
ful land  and  behind  their  delightful  mountains  preserve  their 
ancient  light-heartedness ;  the  friendly,  clever  and  inventive 
Swabians  in  the  garden  of  their  land,  .  .  .  the  volatile  cheer- 
ful Franks  in  their  romantic  ever-changing  surroundings."* 
Here,  as  can  be  seen  at  once,  is  an  attempt  to  account  for  the 
tribal  differences  and  the  race  characteristics  of  several  Ger- 
man stocks  by  reference  to  the  environment  in  which  they  live. 

The  morning  is  for  the  poet  conventionally  the  time  of  joy ; 
it  is  the  time  when  man  feels  anew  the  touch  of  life,  when 
hopes  begin  and  larger  relations  with  the  world  are  again  pos- 
sible. It  is  for  this  reason  that  in  "Die  Sommernacht"*  Titania 
prophesies  for  Shakespere  that  he  shall  greet  this  period  of 
the  day  with  rapture.  Even  a  character  like  the  councillor 
Kliemann,  whom  Tieck  wishes  to  make  ridiculous,  can  hon- 
estly say  that  he  feels  better  at  sunrise.  Again  in  "William 
Lovell,"*  morning  is  called  the  picture  of  an  active  life,  a  note 
that  runs  through  Tieck's  work  to  "Der  junge  Tischlermeis- 
ter,"  where  he  speaks  of  the  refreshing  odor  of  the  morning, 
or  as  in  "Der  Mondsiichtige,"  where  in  the  morning  when 
one  draws  into  one's  lungs  the  fresh  air  after  it  has  rustled 
through  the  trees  and  over  flower-beds,  all  is  "Jauchzen, 
Freundschaft,  Verstandniss."  Elsewhere  Tieck  definitely  con- 
trasts "entziickender  Morgen"  and  "sehnsuchtsvoller  Abend." 

On  the  other  hand,  the  bright  morning  may  bring  sorrow  or 
fail  to  cheer  the  observer.  In  "Die  Freunde,"  the  spring  morn- 

ly.,  385. »IV.,  15. 'N.  S.,  I.,  15. *VII.,  17. 


56 

ing  with  its  cheerful  sunshine  gleaming  on  the  soft  green 
bushes,  the  birds  twittering  and  the  larks  singing  in  the  fleecy 
clouds,  the  odors  from  the  meadows  and  fruit-trees  in  the 
gardens,  cause  an  intoxication  and  a  desire  to  widen  the  bonds 
of  the  soul;  the  feeling  does  not  last;  the  revulsion  at  the 
thought  of  a  sick  friend  sets  in  and  nature  becomes  power- 
less to  drive  away  sorrow ."^  Franz  Sternbald  is  saddened  at 
the  sight  of  the  sun  rising  over  Nuremberg,''  while  Golo's 
whole  woe,  his  torture  and  pain,  are  brought  back  by  the 
bright  morning.* 

In  direct  contrast  to  the  joy  of  the  morning  is  the  sorrow  of 
'the  night.  So  for  example  in  "Abdallah,"  the  sad,  lonesome 
night  is  spoken  of,  while  in  "Der  getreue  Eckart,"  the  night 
brings  with  it  emotions  of  terror  quite  opposed  to  the  feelings 
of  the  day.  Then  too,  in  the  sexual  sphere :  the  night  is  the 
time  when  Genoveva,  the  otherwise  perfectly  faithful  wife, 
feels  attracted  to  Golo ;  in  the  day-time  this  inclination  passes 
away.*  Lovell  is  sad  in  the  evening;  later  on  in  the  same 
novel  the  connection  between  the  falling  of  the  night  and  this 
internal  sadness  is  consciously  expressed:  "Night  is  coming 
on  and  my  melancholy  increases."^  Sternbald  strikes  the  same 
note:  "The  redder  the  evening  grew,  the  more  melancholy 
grew  his  reveries."^  The  feeling  develops  into  self-pity.  An- 
other example  is  found  in  'IDeiLRunenberg:"  "A  cool  twilight 
crept  over  the  earth,  and  only  the  tips  of  the  trees  and  the 
round  mountain  tops  were  gilded  by  the  evening  glow.  Chris- 
tian's spirit  grew  ever  sadder.  .  .  ."  So  also  Leonard  "felt 
himself  oppressed  as  the  shadows  spread  everywhere."  So  for 
example  in  the  cycle  of  poems,  "Morgen,"  "Mittag."  "Abend," 
the  culminating  strain  is  the  fleeting  moment's  sadness.  An- 
other good  example  is  the  description  of  Sternbald's  activity 
at  the  beginning  of  the  novel,  where  each  new  picture  shows 
a  corresponding  change  of  mood. 

In  "Der  Dichter  und  die  Stimme,"  a  poem  which  expresses 

'XIV.,   143. ^'XVI.,  4. ^'IL,  11. *II.,   89. ^'VII..   354;   VI., 

125;  cl  XXL,  91. "XVI.,  19. 


57 

Tieck's  early  philosophy  of  sense,  there  is  the  following 
lament : 

"O  ware  nur  der  triibe  Tag  zu  Ende, 
Dass  ich  im  Abendscheine  wandeln  konntc, 
Und  unter  dichten  Eichen,  dunklen  Buchen 
Dem  Unmuth  fliehn,  dich  Einsamkeit  zu  suchcn."* 

This  shows  that  for  Tieck  man's  reaction  upon  the  night  is 
more  than  the  merely  conventional  feelings  of  sadness,  lone- 
someness  and  terror ;  it  is  seldom  the  time  for  great  activity 
or  festivity,  but  it  has,  as  well  as  the  day,  a  cheering  power. 
So  for  example  in  "Sternbald,"  Franz  becomes  mellow  with 
the  approach  of  evening:  "As  evening  came  on  and  the  red 
gleam  hung  trembling  on  the  bushes  his  feelings  became  softer 
and  more  beautiful." '  In  "Phantasus"  the  night  with  its 
beauty,  the  moon-beams  on  the  fountains  and  the  faint-echo- 
ing Waldhorn  are  felt  by  all  to  be  a  fitting  close  to  the  day, 
like  the  last  accords  of  a  perfect  harmony.  In  the  evening  too, 
after  a  full  and  active  day  in  Kenilworth,  every  breast  is  said 
to  heave  more  freely  and  more  courageously.'  In  "Der  Mond- 
siichtige"  an  even  stronger  expression  of  this  feeling  is  given. 
The  time  is  night ;  a  brook,  a  stray  bird  and  a  steep  mountain- 
side make  up  the  landscape,  the  atmosphere  of  which  aflFects 
the  speaker  thus:  "Mir  war  so  wohl,  so  innigst  beseligt, 
dass  ich  ohne  Wehmuth  und  Schmerz  meine  Thranen  fiihlte."* 
In  the  same  novel  one  of  the  characters  says  of  an  evening  on 
the  tower  of  the  Strassburg  Minster:  "I  lay  long  in  day- 
dreams and  reveries  there  aloft,  while  the  gleam  of  the  moon 
rested  on  the  landscape.  From  all  the  well-springs  of  nature 
there  came  to  me  refreshment,  well-being  and  comfort  and  it 
suited  me  that  life  is  an  enigma."*  The  most  iniportant 
statement  of  this  phase  is  in  tiie  excellent  "Seelen  zu  kiinfti- 
gen  Gedichten"  in  "Tod  des  Dichters:"  "Man  always  says 
cheerful,  light,  when  he  wishes  to  designate  the  joyful  and 
happy.  O  to-night,  as  I  wandered  in  the  cypress  grove  and 
then  rested  in  the  rock-grotto,  surrounded  by  darkness  and 
gloom,  how  happy,  how  blissful  I  felt.    Ich  sog  an  der  duften- 

^Poems.  ZZ. ^'XVL,  58. ^^XVIII,  31. *XXI.,  87,  116. 


58 

den  Blume  der  Nacht,  und  himmlische  Empfindungen  trau- 
felten  in  meinen  Busen  und  loschten  den  Durst  der  Sehnsucht. 
...  In  dieser  Nacht  erschien  mir  das  Leben  des  Tages  matt 
und  unbedeutend."^  The  passage  is  redolent  of  romantic  long- 
ing and  the  thought  is  almost  crystallized  into  a  dogma  by  the 
definiteness  of  the  statement. 

That  night  should  be  the  time  of  love  is  only  natural.  In 
"Sternbald"  Tieck  says  that  night  is  better  for  thoughts  of 
love.  So  Peter  Lebrecht  receives  his  first  kiss  as  the  sun 
goes  down  behind  the  pine-covered  mountain  f  again  the  rec- 
ollection of  the  loved  one  comes  with  the  evening,  as  is  suc- 
cinctly expressed  in  the  lines  from  "Trennung:" 

"Seh'  ich  in  die  Abendrothe, 
Denk'  ich  briinstichlich  an  dich."  ^ 

It  is  in  the  evening  too  that  Helicanus  meets  Lila  and  falls  in 
love  with  her,  while  in  "Der  Mondsiichtige,"  love  and  night- 
time are  constantly  interwoven.  The  night  of  this  novelette 
is,  however,  the  old  familiar  "Mondbeglantze  Zaubernacht"  of 
the  "Kaiser  Octavianus,"  whose  hazy  romanticism  is  fore- 
shadowed as  early  as  "William  Lovell,"  where  the  protest  is 
against  the  "garish  day"  of  modernity.*  It  is  this  night  which 
"bedews  the  senses  with  fantasies"  and  which  is  a  constant 
invitation  to  compose  poetry ;  and  it  may  be  said  that  however 
much  Tieck  affected  to  despise  the  moonshine  poetry  of 
Matthison,  there  is  a  good  deal  of  flickering,  hovering  moon- 
light in  both  his  poetry  and  his  prose,  with  a  tremendous 
effect  on  the  susceptible  young  persons  who  people  his  pages. 
The  importance  of  the  forest  in  Tieck's  writings  can  hardly 
be  overestimated.  To  quote  from  a  French  critic:  "There  is 
in  fact,  'no  drama,  no  poem  or  novel  of  Tieck  that  does  not 
contain  some  marvellous  description  of  the  sentiments  inspired 
by  the  solitude  of  the  great  forests."'  This  is  more  or  less 
exaggerated  by  enthusiasm,  but  the  woods  do  form  a  back- 
ground for  many  a  picture  and  give  tone  to  many  a  varied 
mood.    So  in  several  works  the  atmosphere  is  altogether  that 

'XIX.,   268-9. 'XIV.,   50. 'Poems,   82. *VI.,    51. ''Homme 

de  Rien,  p.  26. 


59 


OF 

UNlVERSiTV 

Of 


of  the  forest,  just  as  the  setting  is  entirely  within  its  confines. 
It  is  not  only  the  soft  gray  shimmer  of  the  "beechen  green" 
but  also  the  deeper  and  more  solemn  note  of  the  pine  forest 
with  its  hush,  its  haze  and  its  mystery.  The  whole  tendency 
is  summed  up  in  that  oft-cited  word  invented  by  Tieck  to  sig- 
nify in  brief  just  this  emotion,  Waldeinsamkeit,  over  the  form 
of  which  there  was  so  much  controversy  among  Tieck's 
friends  and  which  has  found  its  echo  in  Emerson's  poems  and 
in  the  weird  conceptions  of  Bocklin.  This  term  gives  the  key- 
note of  the  story  "Pej^WondeJEckbert,"  and  is  afterwards 
used  as  the  title  of  one  of~Tieck's  latest  novels,  in  which  the 
love  of  the  woods  is  carried  almost  beyond  the  bounds  of  com- 
mon-sense. Between  these  two  chronological  extremes,  the 
note  is  struck  in  a  myriad  ways,  from  a  casual  and  somewhat 
Philistine  expression  in  "Peter  Lebrecht"  or  in  "Abraham 
Tonelli"  to  a  sustained  and  poetic  use  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
more  important  works. 

The  love  of  the  forest-life  is  expressed  strongly  in  "Die 
Freunde,"  where  the  life  of  the  dwellers  in  the  wood  is  rhap- 
sodized in  contrast  to  the  more  toilsome  existence  of  man.*  In 
"Posthornsschall,"  the  romantic  longing  for  the  distant  scene 
has  a  pessimistic  tinge.    The  poem  opens  with  the  lines, 

"Weg,  weg,  welt  weg. 

Von  alien  Schmerzen  weg, 

Durch  die  Wiilder  mocht'  ich  eilen."* 

Not  merely  operatic  nor  conventionally  Anacreontic  is  the 
comparison  in  "Das  Ungeheuer  und  der  verzauberte  Wald," 
"Ausser  Wein  nicht  andere  Wonne  als  der  dunkle  griine 
Wald,'"  for  Tieck  elsewhere  lays  a  certain  stress  on  the  im- 
portance of  drinking.  So  he  says  of  wine  in  "Die  Gemalde:" 
"This  golden  and  purple  flood  pours  into  and  expands  a  sea 
of  harmony  in  us  and  the  old  image  of  Memnon,  which  up  to 
that  time  has  stood  silently  in  the  dark  night,  begins  to  sing. 
Through  blood  and  brain  runs  and  hastens  rejoicing  the 
joyous  cry,  "Spring  is  here!"*     In  the  "Seelen  zu  kiinftigen 

'XIV.,  145. 'Poems.  41 ;  cf.  44. ^'V,  132. *XVII. 


6o 

Gedichten  "  wine  is  spoken  of  enthusiastically  as  the  finest 
concretion  of  the  spirit  of  nature,  and  the  spirit  of  the  wine  is 
represented  as  longing  for  man  just  as  man  longs  for  the  in- 
visible/ So  when  Tieck  couples  this  with  his  love  of  the 
forest,  it  can  be  regarded  as  part  of  his  real  feeling. 

To  be  connected  with  his  patriotism  already  mentioned,  is  a 
passage  from  "Eine  Sommerreise :"  "The  German  still  has  his 
joy  in  the  magnificence  of  the  forests ;  the  Italian  shudders  at 
these  vistas  which  delight  us,  and  the  other  nations  scarcely 
feel  that  sacred  awe  or  that  solemn  reverent  mood  which  seize 
us  in  the  dark  forest  or  in  wooded  mountain  regions.^"  This 
is  equally  true  today;  though  the  basis  of  their  cultivation 
is  economic  rather  than  esthetic  and  sentimental,  it  is  cer- 
tainly true  that  nowhere  do  the  forests  afford  so  much  pleas- 
ure to  native  and  traveler  alike  as  in  Germany.  Of  the  love 
of  the  forest  in  the  individual.  Linden  in  "Waldeinsamkeit" 
says:  "The  green  of  the  forest,  the  pale  twilight,  the  pious 
rustling  of  the  many  tree-tops,  all  this  attracted  me  from  my 
earliest  youth  as  if  by  magic  into  this  solitude.  How  gladly 
I  wandered  off,  got  lost  even  as  a  boy  in  the  woods  around 
my  home.  In  the  inmost  almost  inaccessible  parts  I  felt  my- 
self indescribably  happy  and  entirely  separated  from  the 
world,  and  was  glad  to  forget  school,  my  parental  roof  and 
my  noon-day  meal."* 

The  effect  of  the  forest  is  expressed  by  Tieck  in  various 
ways.  The  meditations  of  "Peter  Lebrecht"  when  lost  in  the 
woods  are  quite  in  keeping  with  the  general  character  of  the 
nature  descriptions  of  that  book.*  There  is  a  mixture  of  rath- 
er dull  detail  which  leads  into  equally  dull  moral  reflection; 
often  there  is  a  certain  element  of  satire.  In  this  instance, 
Peter  explains  that  his  fancy  was  aroused  by  his  being  lost 
in  the  forest,  and  that  various  exciting  stories  of  adventures 
which  might  happen  to  him  in  such  a  situation  came  to  his 
mind.    He  was  frightened  and  soon  began  to  feel  as  if  some- 

'XIX.,  272.     Tieck  had  a  violent  aversion  for  tobacco. ^"XXIII., 

127;  XXVI.,  486,  where  the  German  woods  with  their  special  types  of 
ti-ees  are  mentioned. 'XXVI.,  479. ^*XIV.,  209  ff. 


6i 


thing  were  about  to  occur.  The  conclusion  is  that  a  man  who 
had  no  adventures  on  such  an  occasion  had  no  autobiography 
worth  writing.  The  whole  is  kept,  perhaps  purposely,  thor- 
oughly banal  and  indicates  the  lowest  stage  of  Tieck's  nature 
feeling,  though  in  general  this  story  is  far  better  than  its 
reputation,  and  the  critics  who  see  in  it  only  the  banality, 
miss  the  important  elements  that  indicate  the  dawning  of  a 
larger  period  in  Tieck's  career. 

Far  different,  though  still  more  or  less  as  a  back-ground, 
is  the  attitude  observable  in  "Fortunat"  at  the  crisis  where  the 
hero  is  almost  dying  in  the  woods.  Here  the  wretchedness 
and  loneliness  of  the  situation  are  all  the  more  forced  on  him 
by  his  environment,  and  his  hunger  and  misery  are  inter- 
twined with  the  mood  of  the  forest,  until  forgetfulness  of  the 
present  enters  with  recollections  of  childhood  and  of  past 
pleasure,  just  as  recollection  follows  "Der  Autor"  when  he 
wishes  to  wend  his  way  to  the  forest. 

The  forest  is  the  place  for  quiet  and  meditation  and  man 
longs  to  surrender  himself  to  the  shade,  to  the  mysterious  si- 
lence and  to  the  breezeless  stillness  of  the  situation.*  Occa- 
sionally the  mystery  has  the  upper  hand,  and  then  man  is  rep- 
resented as  leaving  his  melancholy  behind  as  he  steps  out  of 
the  forest,  since,  says  Tieck,  the  pictures  in  us  are  often  only 
reflexes  of  outer  objects.'  So,  too,  the  knight  Albert  has  a 
"Grauen"  in  the  forest.'  In  "Liebeszauber"  walking  in  the 
forest  causes  a  solemn  mood.*  "Sternbald"  is  perhaps  the 
most  replete  of  any  of  Tieck's  works,  not  even  excepting 
"Waldeinsamkeit,"  with  the  spirit  of  the  forest  and  exhibits 
various  interesting  phases.  For  instance  the  reaction  after 
creative  labor  takes  the  form  of  a  flight  to  the  woods,  just  as 
in  a  later  novelette  the  forest  is  the  environment  where  verses 
are  written ;"  in  "Sternbald"  this  is  consciously  expressed. 
Night  in  the  forest  brings  a  catharsis  of  passion.' 

The  forest  with  mountain  and  sea  is  regarded  by  Tieck  as 
one  of  the  larger  phases  of  nature'  which  affects  man  as  no 

^IV.,  238. ^»XIV.,  147. n.,  111. ^*IV.,  272. ^»XXI.,  262. 

•XVI.,  80,  61. 'IV.,  123. 


62 


garden  can.  It  is  the  wood-covered  hill  which  raises  one's 
spirits/  and  happiness  may  be  found  while  merely  riding 
through  the  woods."  The  opening  note  of  "Wald,  Garten 
und  Berg"  is  activity  and  freedom  from  care  in  the  shade  of 
the  trees ;  and  its  admonition,  "Riihre  dich,  o  Menschenkind," 
calls  to  mind  the  effect  of  bright  nature  on  man  as  so  often 
indicated  by  Tieck.  So  in  one  place  in  "Eigensinn  und 
Laune"  the  conversation  plays  into  the  tone  of  the  forest  and 
becomes  more  cheerful  and  poetic.^ 

Various  love  scenes  take  place  in  the  forest  as,  for  instance, 
the  first  meeting  of  Octavian  and  Felicitas  and  of  their  son 
Leo  and  Lealia.  This  is  poetically  consummated  in  the  lines 
which  like  a  refrain  form  the  opening  and  closing  notes  of 
that  great  poem,  "Der  Liebe  Tempel  sei  im  Walde."  The 
"Waldnacht"  with  its  consequent  "J^g^^^st"  melt  into  love 
in  the  "Waldlied"  from  "Zerbino,"  which  of  all  the  plays  has 
the  most  scenes  in  the  woods  and  with  "Sternbald"  contains 
the  greater  proportion  of  Tieck's  woodland  lyrics.  In  "Stern- 
bald"  the  connection  of  love  with  plastic  images  is  to  be 
noticed  in  the  thoughts  raised  in  the  minds  of  Franz  and  Flor- 
estan  as  the  latter  remarks  that  if  he  were  a  painter  he  would 
preferably  paint  woodland  scenes.  Then  the  woodland  mood 
becomes  one  of  voluptuous  passion ;  bathing  nymphs  fill  the 
imagination  of  the  young  man  and  the  images  descend  by 
logical  steps  from  the  overwrought  excitement  of  such  scenes 
to  the  subsequent  elegiac  touch  of  an  Acteon  or  an  Adonis. 

As  was  said  a  moment  ago,  of  all  the  plays,  "Zerbino"  has 
the  most  scenes  in  the  woods.  Proportionately  to  the  whole 
number  of  scenes,  "Rothkappchen"  and  "Daumchen"  have 
more  scenes,  and  a  larger  part  of  "Octavianus"  takes  place  in 
the  wood  than  a  comparatively  small  number  of  scenes  there 
might  indicate.  Of  the  out-of-door  settings  in  the  plays, 
those  in  the  forest  are  of  slightly  more  frequent  occurrence 
than  any  others,  but  the  figures  do  not  indicate  the  real  fre- 
quency of  the  forest  note,  because  the  poetic  atmosphere  is 

^XXIIL,  73. '^V,  441. 'XIX..  373. 


63 

often  extended  over  several  scenes  without  change,  as  was 
remarked  of  *'Octavianus."  Nearly  one-tenth  of  all  the 
scenes  in  the  plays  are  in  the  woods,  while  whole  plays  like 
"Rothkappchen"  have  their  important  action  there.  "Das 
Ungeheuer  und  der  verzauberte  Wald"  lays,  as  the  title  in- 
dicates, an  important  stress  on  a  wood,  though  that  wood  is 
no  normal  prosaic  one. 

Out  of  a  total  of  374  scenes  in  18  plays,  there  are  210  in- 
terior and  164  exterior  scenes.  Of  these  the  former  were  not 
further  subdivided,  but  the  exterior  showed  the  following 
categories : 

Mere  external  setting  but  in  natural  surroundings  such  as 
"Schlosshof,"  "Vor  dem  Hause,"  etc.,  30;  "Walde,"  32; 
"Feld,"  30;  "Gardens,"  20;  "Moorland  waste  and  similar 
scenes,  16,  a  surprisingly  large  number;  Street  scenes  defi- 
nitely so  characterized  or  surely  such  from  the  context,  and 
different  from  mere  external  scenes,  21 ; 

"Spaziergange,"  which  are  also  to  be  distinguished  from 
streets  and  which  were  evidently  "alleys"  or  more  adorned 
places  than  the  open  street;  Mountains,  4;  Sea,  sea-coast  and 
storm,  5. 

These  figures  are  interesting  when  it  is  remembered  that, 
even  though  the  number  of  interior  scenes  is  larger  than  the 
number  of  exterior,  this  does  not  invalidate  the  figures.  The 
drama  deals  naturally  with  the  relations  of  man  to  man,  and 
such  relations  may  be  expected  to  exist  in  artificial  sur- 
roundings. The  significant  thing  seems  rather  to  be  that 
nearly  one-half  of  the  whole  number  of  scenes  take  place  out 
of  doors.  When  the  additional  fact  is  taken  into  considera- 
tion that  many  of  Tieck's  plays  are  largely  literary  satires,  the 
proportion  is  all  the  more  striking  and  conclusive. 


CHAPTER  FOUR 
MYSTIC  AND  SYMBOLIC  INTERPRETATIONS 

Such  interpretations  involve  more  than  that  which  is  felt  by 
the  common  man  in  his  daily  life,  though  they  are  always  in- 
telligible to  him  as  part  of  his  heritage  from  past  ages.  Then 
they  were  matters  of  belief  and  not  of  poetry.  They  imply 
an  imagination  able  to  cope  with  the  mystic  and  transcendental 
forces  of  the  universe;  an  imagination  which  sees  natural 
forces  as  living  personalities  and  reads  into  natural  events 
symbolic  meanings.  Here  it  is  nature  which  is  vital,  and  just 
as  man  reacted  on  the  external  world  in  the  illustrations  of  the 
preceding  chapter,  so  here  nature  takes  the  initiative  and  is 
the  significant  and  living  being.  Tieck's  whole  genius  was 
imbued  with  these  ideas.  The  world  lives  for  him  and  means 
to  him  more  than  the  matter  of  which  it  is  composed. 

Dark,  desolate  or  terrible  nature  is  a  background  for  man's 
actions.  Prospero  worrying  over  the  absence  of  his  son  in 
"Das  Reh,"  finds  all  the  world  in  a  tumult;  the  sun  has  fled, 
the  air  moans,  the  storm  is  unchained,  and  never  before  has 
the  sky  been  so  heavy  over  the  kingdom.  Quite  in  accord  with 
this  are  the  restless  days  of  "Peter  Lebrecht,'  though  they  are 
satirically  meant.  Such  a  day  is  full  of  vexatious  trials.  It 
is  announced  by  various  aspects  of  the  heavens  and  by  strange 
conduct  of  mortals ;  all  sorts  of  comic  things  happen,  and  one 
does  well  to  avoid  his  fellow-man  as  much  as  possible.  In 
"Lovell,"  the  robbery  in  which  Ferdinand,  the  girl  in  the  dis- 
guise of  a  page,  wins  distinction  as  a  rescuer,  takes  place  on 
a  dull,  cloudy  morning,  and  the  surrounding  landscape  is  in 
keeping  with  the  events  which  occur  there. 

In  "Genoveva",  the  morning  on  which  the  heroine  is  to  be 
taken  to  the  woods  to  be  killed  is  described  in  exactly  the  same 


65 

way,  while  in  "Vittoria  Accorombona"  a  terrible  storm  arises 
before  the  killing  of  Isabella,  and  the  murder  of  Peretti  hap- 
pens in  the  rain.  Even  wilder  is  the  day  on  which  KrWIjfirt 
kills  Walther,  and  the  ballad  "Die  Zeichen  im  Walde"  has  an 
atmosphere  consistent  with  the  gloomy  subject,  so  that  the 
murderer  says  of  himself,  "Wild  zur  Wildniss  ging  ich  iiber," 
and  the  storm  rages  as  the  devil  appears.  The  night  corre- 
sponds to  the  deed  of  the  gardener  in  "Der  Pokal",  and  a 
blood-red  streak  of  light  at  dawn  reminds  Selim  of  the  pur- 
pose of  the  conspirators  in  "Abdallah." 

More  subjectively:  Abdallah  after  his  terrible  experience 
with  the  spirits  finds  himself  in  a  broad,  empty  desolate  region 
with  pale  moonlight,  dark  clouds,  cutting  rain  and  wind.  Golo 
pursued  by  his  crime  lives  a  martyr  to  his  thoughts  in  a  deso- 
late region.  Tannhauser  is  driven  out  into  wilder  nature  by 
his  feelings  at  the  marriage  of  his  rival,  and  the  night  of  the 
wedding  is  so  a  reflection  of  his  feelings  that  it  can  be  de- 
scribed as  terrible.  Even  more  subjectively  used  than  these 
is  the  violent  storm  on  the  night  that  the  elves  leave  in  "Die 
Elfen,"  while  in  "Die  Ahnenprobe"  the  hero  and  the  Baron 
answer  a  mysterious  summons  in  a  thin,  cold  and  cutting  rain. 
Theodore  in  "Die  Klausenburg"  arrives  at  the  foot  of  the 
gloomy  old  castle  on  a  changeable  night  in  which  clouds, 
woods,  mountains,  rain  and  wind  are  all  mingled,  only  to  be 
succeeded  by  a  solemn  quiet.  All  this  is  used  not  merely  as  a 
background,  but  the  man  feels  that  it  is  also  a  picture  of  his 
own  life.  \ 

The  constant  reflex  of  nature  in  its  wilder  and  more  terrible  I 

aspects  is  found  even  in  the  metaphor,  especially  in  the  early     yiM^^' 
works.   'Sternbald  writes  that  his  soul  is  like  a  rough  land-  / 
scape  where  the  bridges  are  torn  away  by  the  rushing  moun-./ 
tain  torrents ;  numerous  passages  figure  life  itself  under  vari- 
ous natural  aspects,  all  cheerless  and  drear.     In  "Die  sieben 
Weiber  des  Blaubart"  the  world  seems  like  a  desert,  unculti- 
vated waste  and  in  "William  Lovell,"  man  is  compared  to  a 
twig  driven  about  in  the  floods  and  whirlpools  of  this  raging 


66 

life.  Less  strong  but  in  a  more  melancholy  vein  is  the  passage 
where  Lovell  compares  his  whole  life  to  a  stubble-field  which 
has  been  mowed  oflF,  and  over  which  in  the  approaching 
autumn  the  fog  grows  thicker  and  thicker  as  the  last  ray  of 
the  sun  dies  out  behind  the  distant  mountains.  To  him  the 
world  appears  as  a  garden,  where  thistles  and  weeds  grow  un- 
hindered, and  there  are  many  other  references  to  the  dead  ap- 
pearance of  the  world  as  a  symbol  of  life,  all  with  a  pessimistic 
tinge.  From  this  it  is  an  easy  step  to  regard  the  world  as  a 
grave  and  a  prison,  and  man  as  a  caged  nightingale,  until 
finally  life  itself  becomes  only  a  wish  for  death,  and  death  a 
flower  blooming  out  of  life. 

However  closely  these  aspects  of  nature  are  interwoven 
with  the  inner  life  of  man,  there  is  in  their  description  a  cer- 
tain conventionality  in  spite  of  a  very  evident  effort  on  Tieck's 
part  to  be  Titanic.  Such  attempts  are  characteristic  of  the 
earlier  poems  where,  for  example,  the  night  is  dark  and  dark 
stars  burn  through  the  thin  veil  of  cloud  as  the  lullabys  of  the 
owl  cry  out  a  grewsome  welcome,  or  when  the  storm  rages 
and  rock  splits  against  rock.  Much  of  the  paraphernalia  of 
terror  is  in  line  with  what  was  being  written  at  that  time  in  the 
robber  romances  and  ghost  stories  of  authors  like  Spiess  and 
Cramer.  Tieck's  young  imagination  fired  with  such  reading 
and  reacting  as  well  upon  "Gotz  von  Berlichingen,"  which 
played  a  great  part  not  merely  as  a  prototype  for  this  brand  of 
literature,  but  as  an  inspiration  for  him  as  a  boy,  worked  it 
over  into  the  atmosphere  of  "Abdallah"  and  "William  Lovell." 
So  the  description  of  the  pathway  to  Mondal's  den  is  through 
a  region  that  "nature  seems  finally  to  have  created  in  lassi- 
tude." In  "Die  Freunde"  the  situation  is  that  of  a  romantic 
mountain  "where  the  wild  and  clinging  ivy  had  grown  up  the 
rocky  walls.  Cliff  towered  over  cliff,  and  terror  and  huge- 
ness seemed  to  rule  this  kingdom."  The  fairy-tale  "Die  sieben 
Weiber  des  Blaubart"  is  full  of  such  passages.  The  treeless 
waste  without  hills,  or  with  sparse  woods  and  bushes,  a  wide 


67 

and  dreary  expanse,  alternates  with  the  wild  and  uncanny- 
mountain  region  with  deep  rocky  valley  through  which  a 
stream  presses,  foams,  and  groans  its  way  between  the  cliffs 
as  if  terrified ;  just  as  the  brook  in  Spiess'  "Hans  Heiling" 
hastens  away  from  an  uncanny  region  as  if  on  purpose.  In 
the  later  novels  this  type  of  landscape  becomes  rarer.  In  **Das 
alte  Buch,"  the  home  of  the  gnomes  and  dwarfs  is  described 
as  a  curious  mountainous  region  filled  with  single  unconnected 
hills,  upon  which  single  pine  trees  stood.  In  all  of  these  pic- 
tures there  is  an  element  of  confusion,  of  fragmentariness ;  the 
regular  course  of  nature  is  interrupted  and  there  results  a  / 
landscape  whose  key-note  is  revolt  and  oppression.  ^ 

The  relation  of  such  landscapes  to  the  human  spirit  is  in 
general  what  might  be  expected.  Indeed  it  may  be  inferred 
from  the  frequency  with  which  they  occur  that  Tieck  uses  /  / 
them  as  a  part  of  his  conscious  imagery  to  produce  or  heighten  H 
the  effect.  Crude  and  with  teleological  connotation  is  the  use 
of  the  storm  as  a  sign  from  heaven  in  "Alia  Moddin" ;  in  "Der 
Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen"  this  motive  is  applied  almost  the- 
atrically. Here  at  the  mention  of  the  providence  of  God,  there 
is  a  sudden  flash  of  lightning  which  illuminates  the  vineyards 
with  a  strange  glow  and  then  follows  a  resounding  thunder- 
clap which  shakes  the  whole  house  and  frightens  all  the  in- 
mates. Allied  to  this  but  entirely  objective  and  hence  with  a 
somewhat  satirical  application,  is  the  appearance  of  the  great 
comet  in  "Tod  des  Dichters." 

But  this  type  of  nature  offers  other  relations  with  man.  In 
"Die  Sommernacht,"  the  benediction  of  Oberon  to  the  boy 
Shakespere,  a  passage  which  evinces  real  inspiration,  tells  how 
the  latter  will  display  a  joy  in  the  storm,  the  nocturnal  tem- 
pest and  many  of  the  wilder  and  more  terrible  aspects  of  na- 
ture. Such,  too,  is  ♦  the  kind  of  scene  that  Lovell  seeks  as  a 
refuge  from  a  sinful  life,  but  as  he  knows  only  too  well,  in 
vain :  "There  is  many  a  time  when  I  should  like  to  travel  away 
from  here  and  seek  a  strange  scene  with  its  wonders ;  to  climb 
steep  rocks  and  to  creep  down  into  dizzy  abysses,  to  lose  my- 


68 

self  in  caverns  and  to  hear  the  dull  roar  of  subterranean 
waters."  The  old  woman  in  the  "Sieben  Weiber"  brings 
Peter  to  a  wild  and  rocky  chasm  to  test  him:  "The  coward 
who  shudders  at  these  vertiginous  depths  and  who  trembles 
at  the  omnipotence  of  the  far-lying  world,  who  trembles  when 
he  becomes  aware  of  the  great  limbs  of  nature,  is  not  made  for 
fame.  But  he  whose  eye  gleams,  whose  heart  expands  and 
who  learns  to  know  himself  and  all  his  forces  in  this  place,  he 
is  a  man."  The  poetic  uplift  of  the  wild  country  about 
Wunsiedel,  with  its  cliff  piled  on  cliff  in  rebellious  confusion, 
is  expressed  in  very  definite  terms  in  "Eine  Sommerreise." 
On  the  other  hand,  the  desolate  region  around  Guben  in  the 
same  novel  increases  the  "Mismuth,"  and  the  hypochondriac 
Tieck,  going  to  Italy,  can  see  only  the  personified  terrors  of 
insomnia  in  a  desolate  region  at  Radicofano.  The  phase  does 
not  escape  Tieck's  humorous  touch.  In  "Abendgesprache"  a 
man  is  found  jumping  up  and  down  a  hill  in  search  of  a  place 
to  be  melancholy  in.  The  place  is  not  where  flowers  bloom 
but  where  the  granite  is  solid  under  one's  feet. 

The  storm  as  such  is  found  all  through  Tieck.  Purely  ex- 
ternal and  prosaic  are  uses  like  that  in  "Die  Gemalde"  where 
the  driving  snowstorm  cools  off  Edmond's  ardor  and  makes 
him  see  his  former  enthusiasm  in  a  calmer  light.  The  storm 
as  a  cause  of  evil  is  found  in  "Der  getreue  Eckart"  where  the 
rolling  of  thunder  frightens  the  horse  of  the  duke,  and  from 
this  all  the  subsequent  evils  arise,  and  in  "Dichterleben," 
where  the  sudden  thunderstorm  brings  Shakespere  and  Jo- 
hanna together.  Sometimes,  however,  it  is  the  strength  and 
fury  of  the  storm  which  develop  man's  power  of  resistance 
and  defiance,  though  it  is  significant  to  notice  that  the  power 
is  used  not  to  resist  evil  but  rather  to  foster  it,  or  at  least  to 
make  man  feel  a  hatred  of  life.  The  vivifying  force  of  the 
storm-spirit  is  brought  out  in  the  song  of  the  poem,  "Wald, 
Garten  und  Berg" : 


69 

"Mein  belebender  Othcm  geht  durch  die  Nattir, 
Besuche  die  griinen  Walder,  die  Gebiische, 
Die  hohen  Berge,  die  niedre  Flur, 
Mit  mir  geht  Kraft  und  Lebensfrische. 

Mit  Wolken  ist  in  Liiften  mein  Spielcn, 
Auf  Erden  find'  ich  Gras  und  Laub, 
Doch  oft,  wenn  mir  die  Bliithen  gefielen, 
Sind  sie  audi  meines  Zornes  Raub. 

Doch  bring*  ich  den  Regen  zur  Nahrung  der  Wiescn, 
Ich  jage  die  Nebel  ins  Saatfeld  hinein, 
Ich  lasse  die  Stroma  durch  Walddunkel  fliessen. 
Muss  Wechsel  und  Kampf  allgegenwartig  scin." 

Two  rather  curious  developments  of  the  idea  are  found  in  the 
poems  "Lebenselemente"  and  "Trennung  und  Finden."  In 
the  first,  the  rest  which  follows  the  strife  of  the  storm  is  em- 
phasized, while  in  the  second,  the  thought  is  carried  over  into 
the  realm  of  love,  and  the  peace  which  succeeds  a  quarrel  is 
described  with  imagery  from  the  storm. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  show  how  Tieck  portrays  the  co- 
incidence of  man's  spirit  with  the  elements  and  with  nature 
in  general,  joy  in  joy,  and  sorrow  in  sorrow;  it  remains  to 
mention  briefly  how  he  expresses  the  contrast  of  nature  and 
the  feelings.  The  lowest  form  is  the  lyric  expression  of  such 
lines  as: 

"Was  schadet's,  wenn  der  Donner  grollt, 
Wenn  nur  der  rothe  Mund  nicht  schmollt?" 

Sometimes  it  is  merely  the  situation  of  man  in  contrast  to  the 
happiness  and  beauty  of  nature  as  in  the  Italian  poems,  or  it 
may  be  an  actual  dullness  to  the  scene  because  of  preoccupa- 
tion, or  some  kindred  state  of  mind.  So  for  example,  the  poet 
may  at  the  moment  of  composition  be  totally  oblivious  to  the 
nature  around  him.  Marlow  in  "Dichterleben"  goes  even  so 
far  as  to  say  that  in  becoming  a  poet,  man  tears  himself  away 
from  the  bonds  of  nature  and  lives  independently  of  her  laws.  ^/ 

If  there  be  any  one  aspect  of  man's  emotional  life  which  is 
to  be  intimately  connected  with  nature,  it  is  love.  So  true  and 
so  general  is  the  affinity  of  the  two,  that  much  that  is  said  and 
written  about  them  has  become  stereotyped,  and  a  cant  termi- 


70 

nology  has  arisen  around  this  most  universal  and  beautiful 
relation  which  makes  anything  written  about  it  seem  thread- 
bare. The  figures  of  speech  have  become  universal  figures 
and  the  phrases  bywords  with  almost  humorous  connotation, 
but  the  relation  is  not  impaired  and  the  poets  as  unanimously 
turn  to  nature  for  setting  and  inspiration  for  their  love  scenes 
now  as  in  bygone  ages.  Tieck  is  not  the  first  poet  in  whose 
poems  the  maid  is  kissed  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  night- 
ingale's song,  or  for  whom  that  bird  is  the  symbol  of  the  lov- 
er's melancholy  joy  and  of  the  strength  of  his  passion,  or  for 
whom  the  cycling  change  of  day  and  seasons  means  a  change 
of  love.  Like  all  true  poets,  Tieck  both  consciously  and  un- 
consciously feels  the  whole  subtle  range  of  this  relation  and 
uses  it  in  all  of  its  degrees. 

It  is  thus  that  spring,  the  traditional  time  of  love,  comes  to 
have  a  value  for  him  quite  distinct  from  and  greater  than  that 
of  the  other  seasons.  This  is  perfectly  natural  from  the  pres- 
ent standpoint  as  well  as  from  that  mentioned  in  a  previous 
chapter,  when  the  whole  trend  of  Tieck's  poetry  is  taken  into 
consideration.  Tieck's  is  the  poetry  of  longing  and  of  un- 
realization,  just  as  spring  is  the  season  of  hopes  and  unful- 
filled emotions.  So  closely  is  the  feeling  for  the  spring  inter- 
mingled with  the  feelings  of  man  that  a  sense  of  anticipation, 
of  projecting  the  soul  out  to  meet  the  coming  awakening  of 
the  year  arises,  the  result  finally  in  that  perception  of  the  Vor- 
friihling  which  made  Shelley  cry,  "O  winds  if  winter  comes, 
can  spring  be  far  behind?"  and  which  reverberates  through 
the  other  seasons.  This  phase  of  feeling  went  with  Tieck  all 
through  his  life,  as  can  be  seen  from  the  poems  "Trennung" 
(1804)  and  the  poem  to  greet  the  new  year  in  1825.  The  for- 
mer begins: 

"Ich  wusste  nicht  wie  mir  geschah, 

Als  von  dem  Busch  ein  Bliittchen  that  ausscheinen, 

Ich  musste  weinen, 

Als  ich  das  erste  Grun  ersah: 

Wie  musst  du  ohne  dein  Verschulden 

Den  bosen  Frost,  die  kalten  Nachte  dulden? 

Du  meinst  es  treu  und  gut, 


71 

Du  armes  Blut, 

Und  musst  an  deiner  Lieb'  und  Treu  verscheiden: 

Du  blickst  umher  mit  Liebesaugen, 

Den  warmen  Schimmer  einzusaugen, 

Ach!  dich  wird  noch  die  Friihlingsonne  meiden." — 

Again  in  the  "Improvisirtes  Lied"  (1806), 

"Und  in  defer  Wintemacht 

Lacht  und  wacht  urn  mich  des  Friihlingspracht.    .    .    ." 

The  new  yearns  poem  implies  rather  than  expresses  the  feel- 
ing at  its  height,  but  the  sense  of  it  is  there  as  also  in  the  purely 
figurative  lines  from  the  poem  written  in  memory  of  Goethe 
in  1832,  *'In  diesem  Wettersturm,  der  Friihlingsnahe  .  .  . 
kiindigt." 

Tieck  although  continuing  the  tradition  of  what  Vernon 
Lee  calls  "three  pathetic  centuries  of  endless  spring,"  makes 
of  the  season  more  than  an  expression  of  merely  poetic  plaus- 
ibility ;  to  him  it  was  a  real  live  experience.  Thus  in  one  of 
his  very  latest  novels,  "Der  Schutzgeist,"  he  has  the  Countess 
say :  "One  always  experiences  spring  for  the  first  time  again : 
my  soul  always  is  astonished  anew  at  the  miracle  which  un- 
folds itself  before  my  eyes.  In  my  younger  years  it  was  my 
delight  to  watch  from  minute  to  minute  this  awakening  of 
nature,  or  consciously  to  dream  this  sweet  dream  with  it." 
She  goes  on  to  compare  the  two  attitudes  toward  nature  en- 
joyment, the  objective  which  regards  nature  as  a  work  of  art, 
and  the  subjective  which  delights  "like  the  flower  and  blos- 
som on  the  tree  to  unfold  the  heart  with  its  feelings."  So  in 
"Phantasus:"  "When  spring  expands  with  all  its  treasures, 
and  the  flowers  in  crowds  laugh  all  about  you,  you  cannot  in 
your  touching  joy  prevent  yourself  from  observing  their  forms 
and  coupling  many  a  recollection  with  these."  And  in  "Die 
Gesellschaft  auf  dem  Lande:"  "Spring  is  everywhere  a  lovely 
miracle  wherever  trees  but  blow  and  bud  and  flowers  raise 
their  eyes  from  the  grass." 

How  vividly  Tieck  felt  the  spring  can  be  seen  from  his 
many  personifications  of  the  season  under  the  figure  of  a  child 
or  boy.     This  motive,  conventional  enough,  has  its  value  in 


72 

the  reality  and  fervor  of  the  expression.  Spring  is  a  beautiful 
boy  with  golden  locks,  blue  eyes  and  a  mischievous  smile,  who 
gathers  together  the  toys  that  winter  has  scattered;  under 
whose  foot  and  at  whose  awaking  the  valley  gleams  with 
flowers,  and  whom  Marcebille  wishes  to  press  to  her  bosom  in 
her  delight.  The  "Seelen  zu  kiinftigen  Gedichten'*  describe 
his  coming  thus :  "There  comes  spring  with  light  and  dew  and 
warmth,  he  brings  song  and  the  odor  of  flowers  and  color. 
He  wanders  through  the  woods  all  decked  with  garlands,  all 
dangling  with  flowery  chains  and  in  his  hair  are  violets  twined. 
One  hardly  recognises  the  form,  he  is  so  thickly  covered  with 
fluttering  colors.  Now  the  drunken  earth  and  wood  and  gar- 
den feel  his  joy-giving  presence,  the  spirits  of  nature  struggle 
to  meet  him,  and  in  a  happy  swoon  each  bush  frees  the  bud- 
ding roses  and  the  garden  is  roseate  and  odorous,  the  lily  opens 
her  splendor,  the  bloom  of  the  trees  dances  in  the  sunlight  and 
all  nature  dreams  a  wondrous  dream." 

The  rapture,  the  fulness  and  glory  of  the  awakening  of 
spring  are  detailed  with  a  great  wealth  of  imagery  but  without 
personification  in  the  poem  "Friihlings  und  Sommerlust," 
where  the  whole  gamut  is  run  from  the  first  appearance  of  the 
birds  on  the  barren  branches,  to  the  very  spring-time  of  spring 
with  its  wealth  of  all  flowers  and  longings.  And  Tieck  knew 
how  spring  does  come.  That  surprise,  that  sensation  which 
comes  to  everyone  in  each  succeeding  year  when  suddenly  the 
realization  of  the  new  season  is  upon  one,  he  has  concentrated 
into  the  line,  "Nun  rauscht's  und  alle  stehn  in  gruner  Pracht." 
The  culmination  of  the  poem  is  in  the  line,  "Hoher  kann  das 
Jahr  sich  nicht  erschwingen."  So  too  in  "Kaiser  Octavianus," 
Lealia,  speaking  of  the  suddenness  of  love,  compares  it  to  the 
spring  which, 

"Wenn  er  kommt  so  kleine 

Morgen  schon  Wald  sich  griin  zusammen  fiiget." 


73 

The  month  is  May/  which  Hebbel  calls  a  categorical  impera- 
tive of  joy. 

The  spring  has  pre-eminently  two  notes:  that  of  love  and 
that  of  regret.  It  is  love  or  the  recollection  of  love  that  brings 
with  it  or  grants  to  the  lovers  a  "himmlisch-belohnend  ent- 
ziickender  Kuss." '  The  mood  may  be  that  of  unknown  long- 
ing, of  lack  of  sorrow  and  of  consciousness  of  the  joys  of  love 
until  in  fact,  all  spring  becomes  a  yearning  for  love ;  *  this 
atmosphere  prevades  the  specifically  lyric  portions  of  "Kaiser 
Octavianus"  and  it  might  almost  be  mathematically  deduced 
from  Tieck  that  since  both  spring  and  love  are  miracles,  as  he 
so  vividly  felt,  they  must  be  the  same  thing.  Two  other  minor 
moments  may  be  noticed,  the  desire  of  the  awakened  world  in 
spring  to  express  itself  as  love,  and  the  converse,  the  awaken- 
ing of  spring  in  the  soul  by  love,  as  for  example,  in  the  sonnet 
cycle  to  Alma,  Tieck's  passionate  expression  of  some  concrete 
emotion : 

"Darf  sich  mein  Mund  an  ihre  Rothe  schmiegen. 
So  saug  sich  trunken  Friihling,  Diifte  alien 
Klang  und  den  Geist  der  himmlischen  Gesange."* 

The  change  of  seasons  follows  the  natural  course  of  the 
year;  spring  succeeds  winter,  and  summer,  spring.  To 
Amelni  in  "Alia  Moddin"  the  change  is  a  picture  of  hope.'  In 
"William  Lovell"  there  is  one  reference,  meteorological  and 
cosmogonic,  which  stands  apart  from  the  other  use  of  the  idea 
in  its  prosaic  quality  if  not  in  its  pessimism.*  Here  Lovell 
speaks  of  the  crumbling  of  the  mountains  as  the  seasons 
change  and  feels  how  like  this  is  man,  who  has  in  him  the 
death  worm  of  decay.  The  idea  of  Zerhrechlichkeit  which  he 
found  fully  developed  in  Boehme  is  here  hinted  at.  So  too  in 
a  speech  of  Leo  in  "Kaiser  Octavianus" : 

"So  schwinden  Tage,  Monden,  Jahre  schnell. 
Verganglichkeit,  du  pliinderst  unser  Leben ! 
Noch  leuchtet  um  uns  Sonnenschimmer  hell, 
Plotzlich  sind  wir  der  finstern   Nacht  gegeben." 

'Poems,  161;XIX.,  4;  I.,  6. ^h.,  100.  Cf..  XIV.,  240;  lb.,  47. 

•lb.,  51;  L,  307. ^*Ib.,  365. 'XL,  300. ^'XII.,  26. 


74 

The  progress  of  Golo's  passion  with  its  general  effect  on 
his  disposition  is  shown  very  plainly  by  his  general  attitude 
toward  nature,  and  especially  toward  spring.  In  the  begin- 
ning of  the  play  he  cries  out  a  glowing  description  of  the  new 
life  of  the  season  with  its  blossoms  and  birds  and  the  stir  of 
the  world  in  the  glamor  of  earth,  "when  Heaven  tries  Earth 
if  it  be  in  tune/'  and  feels,  too,  the  glitter  and  glisten  of  the 
manifold  colors  of  the  ever-expanding  season.  As  his  love 
grows  madder,  his  attitude  toward  nature  grows  less  sympa- 
thetic; as  spring  passes,  his  love  goes  with  it  and  he  finally 
accuses  Genoveva  thus:  "Sonst  war  dein  Blick  milde,  da 
prangte  die  Welt  um  mich  im  Friihlingsschein."  ^  The  same 
pessimism  that  runs  through  all  the  early  works  is  due  to  a 
large  extent  to  this  motive.  So  in  "Trauer," '  where  without 
much  attention  to  the  detail  of  the  process,  spring  is  repre- 
sented as  yielding  to  winter  at  whose  approach  love  and  its 
dreams  depart.  In  the  prolog  to  "Octavianus"  the  change 
of  seasons  brings  to  the  lover  a  change  of  faith.  Fall  is  the 
season  of  boldness  and  winter  of  broken  troth,  but  it  is  spring 
which  binds  the  lover  once  more  to  his  old  vows.'  There  is  a 
certain  trace  of  the  idea  at  the  bottom  of  the  novel,  "Der  junge 
Tischlermeister,"  though  in  a  thoroughly  intangible  way.  The 
most  graceful  expression  of  the  motive  and  without  the  pes- 
simism of  faithlessness  is  in  Lila's  song  from  "Zerbino,"  one  of 
Tieck's  simplest  and  withal  most  effective  lyrics : 

"Doch,  als  ich  Blatter  fallen  sah, 
Da  sagt  ich:  Ach!  der  Herbst  ist  da, 
Der  Sommergast,  die  Schwalbe,  zieht, 
Vielleicht  so  Lieb  und  Sehnsucht  flieht, 
Weit !     weit ! 
Rasch  mit  der  Zeit. 

Doch  riickwarts  kam  der  Sonnenschein, 
Dicht  zu  mir  drauf  das  Vogelein, 
Es  sah  mein  thranend  Angesicht, 
Und  sang:    die  Liebe  wintert  nicht, 
Nein !    nein ! 
Ist  und  bleibt  Friihlingsschein."* 

'IL,  76,  150. Toems,  18. n.,  9. *X..  82;  Poems.  26. 


75 

As  spring  is  the  season  of  love  so  the  rose  is  its  flower,  and 
with  this  flower  Tieck  enters  into  the  most  intimate  relations. 
Other  flowers  are  mentioned  and  understood ;  they  are  a  part 
of  the  great  living  organism  of  nature  and  themselves  have  a 
life  separate  from  this  animate  mass,  but  none  of  them  is  as 
dear  to  Tieck  as  the  rose.  Not  even  the  lily,  its  constant  as- 
sociate in  tradition,  means  so  much  to  him.  To  be  sure  the 
literary  history  of  the  rose  goes  back  to  the  early  classic  times. 
Its  pathos  was  first  felt  by  Ausonius  and  figures  found  in 
Tieck  can  be  met  with  in  Politian  and  Tasso,^  while  even  in 
the  bombast  of  Lohenstein,'  the  praise  of  the  rose  is  sung.  So 
too  the  Romaunt  of  the  Rose,  the  Wars  of  the  Roses,  and  even 
so  prosaic  a  document  as  the  fourteenth  century  garden-roll 
of  the  Norwich  priory,  which  mentions  only  the  rose  and  the 
lily,  indicate  how  this  flower  took  part  in  the  life  and  litera- 
ture of  the  early  peoples.  From  the  Gul  and  Bulbul  of  Per- 
sian poetry  to  Herrick  and  the  modern  lyric,  the  rose  has  been 
a  symbol  of  love  and  a  companion  of  mankind  in  its  progress. 
So  for  Tieck  nothing  could  be  more  significant  than  his  un- 
conscious choice  of  the  rose  as  his  flower.  It  marks  at  once  a 
diflFerence  between  him  and  Novalis,  whose  blue  flower  em- 
bodies an  ideality  both  of  love  and  of  life  far  more  spiritual 
than  the  plasticity  of  Tieck. 

Tieck  presents  all  flowers  not  en  masse  but  with  a  continued 
emphasis  on  their  individuality.  Perhaps  only  the  "Nelken," 
with  the  consequent  rhyme  "welken,"  become  stereotyped, 
while  the  tulip  alone  with  its  flaming  masses  of  color  has  a 
purely  decorative  eff'ect.  The  flowers  constantly  recur  not 
merely  as  concomitants  of  spring,  but  in  close  connection  with 
the  mind  and  soul  of  man.  They  are  related  to  him,  can  be- 
come his  friends  or  enemies,  and  whoever  does  not  love  them, 
is  godless  and  loveless.  So  in  the  figurative  language  the  soul 
"entbliiht  zu  Gotte"  and  death  is  only  "ein  bliithenvoUes 
Leben." 

Of  all  the  flowers  it  is,  however,  the  rose  which  appears 

'Symonds,  Pathos  of  the  Rose  in  Poetry. ^*Biese,  273-4. 


76 

most  frequently  and  for  which  the  most  passionate  longing  is 
felt.  One  of  Tieck's  heroes^  is  represented  as  having  an  almost 
pathological  love  of  this  flower  and  an  equally  strong  hatred 
of  all  others,  and  in  fact,  the  rose  is  bound  up  with  the  deep- 
est phases  of  Tieck's  poetry.  He  attributes  to  it  a  peculiar 
femininity  and  this  appears  in  his  imagery  where  in  the  most 
passionate  language  the  bosom  and  breast  of  the  rose  are  con- 
stantly referred  to.  It  is  the  symbol  of  sexual  love  and  its 
desire  is  contrasted  with  the  more  ideal  love  which  the  lily 
betokens.    So,  for  example,  in  "Wald,  Garten  und  Berg" : 

"Bist  du  kommen  um  zu  lieben 

So  nimm  unsre  Bliithe  wahr, 

Wir  sind  rothend  stehn  geblieben 

Prangen  in  dem  Friihlingsjahr. 

Als  ein  Zeichen  sind  die  Biische 

Mit  den  Rosen  iiberstreut 

Dass  die  Liebe  sich  erfrische, 

Ewig  jung  sich  stets  erneut. 

Wir  sind  Lippen,  rothe  Kiisse, 

Rothe  Wangen,  sanfte  Glut, 

Wir  bedeuten  Liebesmuth, 

Wir  bezeichnen,  so  wie  siisse 

Herz  und  Herz  zusammenneigt, 

Liebesgunst  aus  Lippen  steigt, 

Kiisse  sind  verschonte  Rosen 

Der  Geliebten  Bliithezeit. 

Und  ihr  siisses  siisses  Kosen 

1st  der  Wiinsche  schon  Geleit, 

Wie  die  Rose  Kuss  bedeut't 

So  bedeut't  der  edle  Kuss 

Selbst  der  Liebe  herrlichsten  Genuss." 

Again  from  "Kaiser  Octavianu:" 

"Rose,  siisse  Bliithe,  der  Blumen  Blum*, 

Der  Kuss  ist  auf  deinen  Lippen  gemalt, 

O  Ros'  auf  deinem  Munde  strahlt 

Der  kiissenden  Lieb  Andacht  und  Heiligtum." 

Or  from  'Trennung  und  Finden:" 

"Aus  Rosen  kam  zuerst  dein  susses  Blicken, 

In  ihnen  bliithen  meine  ersten  Kiisse 

Wie  sollt'  ich  nicht  dir  heute  Rosen  schicken, 

Dass  ihre  Rothe  riihrend  dich  begrusse: 

Liebst  du  noch,  freundlich  Wesen, 

Magst  du  noch  in  unserm  Scham-Errothen  Sehnsucht  lesen?" 

*In  Liebeszauber.  IV.,  252. 


77 

With  stress  on  the  femininity  of  the  flower  are  all  the  glowing 
words  of  Marcebille.  She  praises  Persia,  the  land  of  the  birth 
of  the  rose,  calls  it  the  maiden  flower  and  finally  says ; 

"Nicht  umsonst  bist  du  erst  quillend 
Eingehiillt  in  deiner  Knospe; 
Also  schlaft  des  Madchens  Busen. 
Eh,  die  Liebe  ihn  erhoben. 

Und  das  Roth  ein  heimlich  Feuer, 
Bricht  hervor  siiss  angeschwoHen, 
Und  wie  ein  verstohlen  Kiisschen 
Hangst  du  an  dem  Zweig  gebogen: 
Aber  inniger  entbrennen 
Lufte  die  dich  aufgesogen, 
Immer  susser  traumst  du  Liebe, 
Hast  die  Luft  in  dich  gezogen, 
Immer  buhlerischer  kiisset 
Dich  das  Licht,  das  dich  gewogen, 
Und  du  lassest  nun  die  Schaam, 
Und  es  drangt  zu  deinem  Schoose 
Alle  Kraft  des  heiligen  Aethers.  .  .  ." 

Another  and  later  reference  is  equally  vivid : 

O  du  schadenfrohe  rothe  Rose, 

Auch  du  kommst  an,  muthwillige,  du  lose? 

1st  das  mein  Dank, 

Dass  ich  so  viel  zu  deinem  Ruhme  sang? 

Musst  du  mir  die  siissen  Lippen  zeigen, 

Willst  du  den  Kuss,  den  Kuss  mir  nicht  verschwcigen? 

Und  in  Ubermuth 

Malet  euch  an  mit  voller  dunkler  Gluth? 

Und  die  kleinen  Knospen  sind  nicht  minder 

Dreist  und  frech,  die  ungezogenen  Kinder, 

Sie  zeigen  schon 

Des  zarten  Busens  Spitzen  mir  zum  Hohn, 

Wenn  Kuss  und  Wollust,  liebliches  Gekose, 

Den  ganzen  Busen  zeigt  die  wohlerwachsene  Rose.  .  .  ." 

Thus  Tieck's  love-poetry  culminates  in  the  rose  as  a  symbol 
of  all  longing  and  voluptous  passion.  Yet  he  shows  that  for 
him  love  has  a  deeper  significance  in  respect  to  the  created 
world ;  it  is  in  the  words  of  Abdallah,  the  end  of  all  creation, 
or  as  in  "Peter  Lebrecht,"  the  primal  moving  force  which  de- 
velops the  capabilities  of  man,  and  the  power  which  holds  the 
entire  "world-building"  together.  In  "Kaiser  Octavianus"  it 
makes  all  things  possible  and  explains  all  natural  phenomena, 


II 


78 

while  in  the  "Herzensergiessungen"  it  explains  not  merely 
nature  but  man  as  well. 

Love's  power  over  nature  is  expressed  in  many  poetic 
images.  So  in  the  duet  between  Franz  Sternbald  and  Ru- 
dolph, love  is  said  to  have  opened  spring  like  a  tent  in  the 
blooming  world :  "Der  Liebe  ist  nur  so  schones  Werk  gelun- 
gen  "  The  intimate  connection  of  this  with  spring  and  the 
romantic  paraphernalia  is  found  in  one  of  the  Alma  series: 
when  love  came,  then  first  appeared  the  joy  of  the  season  lured 
from  its  hiding  place.  A  constant  figure  is  the  awakening  of 
the  flowers  under  the  feet  of  the  loved  one.  In  "Lied  der 
Sehnsucht"  it  is  her  tread  which  makes  the  spring,  just  as  in 
"Genoveva"  her  coming  brings  joy  to  the  heart  of  the  rose 
and  causes  the  fire-fly  to  light  its  lamp,  or  as  Golo  says  to 
his  mistress: 

"Ihr  schreitet  her  und  weckt  aus  verborgenen  Tiefen 

Die  hohen  Wunder  auf,  die  unten  schliefen. 

Schaut  um  euch,  Holde,  wo  ihr  geht, 

Ein  dichtgedrangter  Blumengarten  steht; 

Die  Baume  ziehn  euch  nach,  unter  euren  Fiissen 

Dringt  kindisch  griines  Gras,  den  Fuss  zu  kiissen; 

Die  Blumen  erwachen 

Vom  tiefen  Schlaf  und  lachen, 

Und  rother  wird  der  Rosen  Mund.  ..." 

Another  passage  is  from  "Tod  des  Dichters" :  "Where  she  wan- 
dered through  the  garden,  the  flowers  shimmered  more  beau- 
tifully and  a  sweet  odor  permeated  the  air."  A  few  pages 
later  in  the  same  novelette,  it  seems  as  if  flowers  must  spring 
up  from  the  earth  to  meet  her  glance.  So  too  the  old  Magis- 
ter  in  "Der  junge  Tischlermeister"  expresses  this  power  of 
the  loved  one  over  the  senses  quite  in  the  romantic  mood  with 
its  emphasis  on  sensation  and  the  sheen  of  the  world,  when  he 
says  that  wherever  Hedwig  stood  there  seemed  to  be  a  red 
light  almost  like  the  light  of  dawn  burning  in  the  room. 

Nature  brings  the  loved  one  to  mind  in  a  vivid  manner.  So 
the  image  of  Amalia  alone  fills  Lovell's  soul  and  eyes  so  that 
he  sees  her  everywhere,  in  every  green  bush,  from  every  path, 
between  the  cornfields,  in  each  phenomenon  of  the  world.    For 


79 

Cleon  in  "Zerbino"  all  nature  spells  Lila's  name,  is  she,  while 
in  "Genoveva"  all  the  world  speaks  to  Golo  of  his  loved  one, 
but  mocks  him  when  she  does  not  love  him.  Zulma,  too,  says 
that  where  love  is  not,  there  is  no  nature.    Leo  says  of  Lealia : 

"Es  war  als  leuchtete  um  sie  der  Wald, 

Als  hallten  Himmel,  Erde  nur  sie  wieder.     .    .     . 

Die  Welle  singt  von  ihr,  auf  alien  Wegen 

Erscheint  nur  sie,  tritt  aus  einsamer  Wildniss, 

In   allem   Denken   will   nur   sie  sich   regen.    .    .     . 

So,  too,  in  "Der  griechische  Kaiser,"  Ferdinand's  love-lyric 
with  its  "Allenthalb  ihr  siisses  Bild"  brings  out  the  same  idea. 
Two  places  in  "Tod  des  Dichters"  carry  out  the  thought :  "But 
I  feel  her  and  her  magnificence  in  the  breath  of  the  night,  the 
gleam  of  the  stars;  the  recollection  of  her  penetrates  all  my 
vital  forces."  The  other  extract  contains  one  of  those 
conceits  with  which  all  poets  delight  to  toy:  "After  she  had 
stood  on  the  sea-shore,  I  ran  secretly  thither  to  see  in  the  mir- 
ror of  the  waters  her  picture  and  to  hold  it  with  my  eye ;  the 
picture  was  still  there  for  I  see  it  always  and  everywhere." 

The  interrelation  of  love  and  nature  is  a  spiritualization  of 
Tieck's  tendency  to  see  in  nature  sexual  symbols.  Not  merely 
is  the  image  of  the  loved  one  everywhere  in  the  visible  world, 
but  nature  itself  comes  to  be  regarded  as  a  woman,  in  whose 
embrace  the  happy  mortal  perishes  "in  a  sea  of  wonder"  and 
ecstasy.  As  early  as  "Die  Sommernacht"  he  expresses  the 
impulse  to  enclose  all  nature  in  his  arms;  Abdallah  not  only 
wishes  to  do  this  but  sees  nature  lying  there  before  him 
in  her  woman's  beauty.  Even  more  physically  expressed  is 
the  mention  in  "Dei^  Runenberg" :  "Wer  die  Erde  wie  eine 
geliebte  Braut  an  sich  zu  driicken  vermochte,  dass  sie  ihm  in 
Angst  und  Liebe  gem  ihr  Kostbares  gonnte!"  In  "Eine 
Sommerreise"  Tieck  speaks  of  the  mysterious  "Liebesverhalt- 
niss"  with  nature  and  remarks  on  the  same  relation  in  the 
poems  of  the  Jesuit  Spee. 

This  motive  takes  the  form  of  images  in  which  heaven  and 
earth  embrace  each  other,  in  general  with  sexual  intent.  It 
did  not  originate  with  Tieck  since  it  lies  too  near  the  surface 


ii 


8o 

of  the  thought  to  have  escaped  attention.  So  Logau  writes  of 
May, 

"Dieser  Monat  ist  ein  Kuss  den  der  Himmel  giebt  der  Erde, 
Dass  sie  jetso  seine  Braut  kiinftig  eine  Mutter  werde." 

Tieck  says  in  "Sternbald :"  "Die  Sonne  schein  blass  und  gleich- 
sam  blode  auf  die  warme,  dampfende  Erde  hernieder,  die  das 
erste  neue  Gras  aus  ihrem  Schoose  gebar."  In  "Octavianus" 
it  is  the  waves  in  the  brook  which  kiss  each  other,  as  well  as 
the  sky  and  earth,  which  in  an  early  speech  of  Felicitas  hold 
each  other  fast.    Lealia  sings : 

"Und  die  Erde  siissumfangen 
Glanzt  und  giebt  die  Kiisse  trunken 
Wieder  die  auf  sie  gesunken, 
Und  entbrannt  ganz  in  Verlangen 
Beben  die  Hiigel ; 

Holde  Sehnsucht,  siiss  Erfiillen  zwingt 
Alle  ihre  Lebensadern  und  die  Liebe  dringt 
Durch  die  ganze  Seele.    .    .    ." 

In  the  prolog  to  the  drama  "Magelone"  the  flowers  say  of 
the  water  and  light  that  they  "wollen  sich  begatten,"  while  the 
poem  written  for  the  New  Year  1800,  the  earth  feels  the  sun's 
love  and  returns  it  with  the  recollection  of  lofty  marriage 
hymns.  Again,  in  "Der  griechische  Kaiser:"  "Der  Himmel 
ist  in  die  Erde  gedrungen."  And  so  Tieck  lays  continual 
stress  on  the  connection  of  sexuality  with  nature.  As  early 
as  "Das  Reh,'*  he  says  that  all  nature  is  subject  to  this  desire, 
and  the  motive  force  of  passion  so  emphasized  by  later  psy- 
chologists was  well  understood  by  him.  It  was  given  strength 
and  trend  by  his  study  of  Boehme.  Thus  Tieck  progresses 
from  the  voluptuous  pictures  in  natural  setting  of  the  early 
works  to  the  gloomy  and  sensual  demonism  of  his  version  of 
the  Tannhauser  saga  and  to  distortions  of  fancy  such  as  are 
found  in  "Das  Donauweib"  and  in  "Der  greichische  Kaiser," 
where  all  nature  is  represented  as  offering  a  series  of  volup- 
tuous forms  to  the  intoxicated  eye  of  the  sensualist.  On  the 
other  hand,  in  "Octavianus,"  the  delicate  interlacing  of  the 
two  elements  is  wrought  out  with  infinite  skill  and  with  great 


8i 

luxuriousness  of  language  and  imagery,  so  that  one  feels  that 
here  are  signs  of  power  and  life. 

Such  figures  are  deeply  rooted  in  the  human  mind  in  its 
most  primitive  stages,  and  are  the  outgrowth  of  man's  primi- 
tive animism,  now  no  longer  held  as  belief,  but  persisting  as 
poetic  ornament.     In  Tieck  this  animism  occupies  so  large 
a  place  that  it  demands  special  attention.  The  earliest  and  basic 
images  in  primitive  man  seem  to  be  intimately  connected  with 
nature-worship  and  take  form  not  merely  in  connection  with 
sex,  as  in  the  spring  festivals  of  the  primitive  world,  but  have 
a  larger  and  more  general  demonism ;  or  as  Schiller  puts  it,  it 
is  the  "streitendes  Gestalenheer"  which  prevents  man  from 
realizing  as  a  totality  the  beautiful  soul  of  nature.    Tieck  runs 
the  whole  gamut  of  these  visions  from  the  mildest  personifica- 
tion to  the  uttermost  mad  terror  in  the  face  of  the  demonic 
forces  of  nature  working  against  him ;  from  the  play  of  fancy 
around  a  rose-bud  to  the  uncanny  mystery  of  mere  external 
form,  and  from  that  to  the  mystery  and  wonder  of  self,  as 
self  especially  when  all  nature  is  identified  with  self.     There    r 
seems  to  be  in  Tieck  a  titanic  wrestling  with  nature,  not  as 
Jacob  wrestled  with  God  for  a  blessing,  or  even  with  the  dis- 
couraged horror  of  one  like  Antenor  struggling  with  a  monster 
whose  strength  is  renewed  at  every  fall  to  the  earth,  but  with      . 
a  savage  rebellion  at  the  mystery,  and  with  a  feeling  of  the     I 
hopelessness  of  a  strife  against  one's  own  most  intimate  ter-     ) 
rors.    Here  at  least  it  may  be  said  that  Tieck  rises  to  the  level    j  : 
of  a  great  poet,  since  in  a  feeling  for  and  in  an  expression  of  '/ 
the  psychology  of  mystery  he  is  unsurpassed. 

Haym  has  noted  the  sources  of  this  feeling  in  Schelling's 
nature-philosophy,  though  he  has  not  detailed  the  various 
phases  of  the  motives.  In  passing,  one  may  mention  mere 
personification,  such  as  is  often  a  part  of  the  poet's  apparatus. 
Such  stock  expressions  as  sleeping  moonshine,  as  greeting  and 
kissing  moonlight  and  sunlight,  laughing  flowers  and  sun,  of 
trees  and  flowers  nodding  and  greeting,  howling  winds  and 
weeping  springs,  are  common  enough  in  Tieck;  but  besides 


82 

these,  there  is  a  distinctly  heightened  series  of  cases  where 
the  natural  phenomena  are  conceived  as  doing  human  things 
of  a  less  stereotyped  sort,  and  expressed  in  a  less  hackneyed 
way.  For  instance,  in  ''Abdallah,"  the  walk  of  the  wind  for 
pleasure  is  mentioned,  and  in  another  passage  the  wind  is 
represented  as  cHmbing.  So,  too,  in  "Sternbald,"  the  moon 
appears  to  wish  to  climb  the  mountain,  while  in  ''Eine  Som- 
merreise"  it  is  the  climbing  dawn  which  impresses  Tieck.  The 
same  passage  allegorizes  the  combat  between  night  and  dawn 
which  is  given  in  the  prolog  to  *'Magelone"  with  such  vivid 
personification.  In  the  poem  "Morgen"  the  morning  mists 
creep  away  as  the  sun  climbs  up  into  the  sky.  Abdallah  with 
its  untamed  language  offers  the  following:  "Mit  lautem  Geb- 
riill  sank  die  (Feuer)  Kugel,"  "Der  Donner  briillt/'  "Die  ges- 
palteten  Klippen  grinzten,"  "Die  Nacht  sog  begierig  den  Schein 
in  sich,"  and  so  on.""  The  clouds,  which  in  the  poem  merely 
nestle  at  the  feet  of  the  sun  are  in  the  "Mondscheinlied"  pict- 
ured as  awkward  with  an  attempt  to  represent  this  in  the 
verse : 

"Kommen  und  gehen  die  Schatten, 
Wolken  bleiben  noch  spilt  auf 
Und  Ziehen  mit  schwerem  unbeholfnem  Lauf 
Ueber  die  erfrischfen  Matten." 

Two  other  passages  assign  an  even  more  interesting  role  to 
the  clouds.  In  "Lovell"  they  are  represented  as  a  wandering 
comedy  troupe,  and  the  conceit  is  carried  still  farther  in  "Das 
alte  Buch"  where  they  are  called  the  most  entertaining  jesters 
who  have  no  scruples  at  mimicking  horse,  camel  or  man. 

*The  tendency  to  vivify  abstract  ideas  is  very  noticeable  in  Tieck's 
earlier  works,  where  there  is  a  whole  series  of  similar  expressions.  In 
the  letters  to  Wackenroder  (300  Bfe.  46)  "Vorsatze  winken" ;  from 
Abdallah :  "Ein  Schauern  springt  aus  dem  Walde  und  packt  ihn  an 
mit  eiskalter  Hand";  "Der  Jammer  prinp^  neben  ims  und  reichte  uns 
etc. ;"  "Die  Vergangenheit  trat  freundlich.  .  .  ."  "Das  Gliick  hat  uns 
seine  Hand  zum  ewigen  Abschiede  crereicht";  "Das  Liebliche  und  die 
Grasslichkeit  sahen  sich  an  und  wollten  sich  die  Hande  reichen,"  and 
so  on.  In  "Magelone,"  God's  blessing  begins  its  journey,  misfortune 
howls  and  there  are  any  number  of  such  vivid  personifications  all  con- 
ceived in  a  very  live  way  as  the  continual  references  to  hands  in 
Abdallah  will  at  once  show. 


83 

Nothing  shows  more  clearly  the  intensity  of  Tieck's  feeling 
for  the  life  of  the  world  about  him  and  his  sense  of  being  sur- 
rounded by  a  nature  animated  and  anthropomorphic  than 
the  many  passages  which  assign  to  nature  eyes  and  sight.  The 
externally  impinging  lowers  and  lurks  at  every  turn,  and  man 
seems  never  able  to  escape  the  fixed  and  watchful  eye  of  the 
universe.  In  "Das  Reh''  it  is  darkness  itself  that  looks  out 
from  behind  the  trees ;  in  one  of  the  poems  the  last  red  of  the 
evening  glances  in  parting  at  the  meadow.  In  "Lovell'*  the 
moon  looks  tearfully  down  on  the  veiled  world;  whereas  in 
"Genoveva"  the  moonlight  peeps  in  at  the  window.  In  "Der 
blonde  Eckbert"  is  is  the  night  which  does  this,  the 
night  which  again  in  "Genoveva,"  has  an  earn- 
est face,  and  whose  eye  is  the  fire.  A  number  of  passages 
deal  with  trees  and  flowers  and  the  latter  especially  watch 
man.  Sometimes  they  have  large  earnest  eyes  or  again  dark 
angry  ones,  and  in  one  place  in  "Zerbino"  the  trees  stand  with 
an  astonished  look.  The  gaze  of  the  flowers  is  several  times 
mentioned  as  sweet  or  loving.  Even  walls  and  weapons  have  / 
eyes.  ' 

There  is  perhaps  less  to  be  said  of  the  sounds  that  Tieck    ) 
hears  in  nature  because  so  many  of  these  have  become  hack-  / 
neyed  and  because,  too,  for  his  earlier  period  at  least,  the 
characteristic  notes  are  those  of  the  horn  and  shawm  which 
sound  through  "Sternbald"  almost  to  excess.    But  these  exot- 
ics are  not  the  only  sound-givers ;  Tieck  hears  especially  the    / 
talking  waters  and  trees.     Thus  from  the  tale  "Magelone:"    ' 
"The  fountains  splashed  more  strongly  and  carried  on  loud 
conversations  from  the  remotest  parts  of  the  garden."     Al- 
most the  opening  note  of  "Der  Runenberg**    is    this:      "He 
listened  to  the  changing  melody  of  the  water  and  it  seemed 
as  if  the  waves  said  in  incomprehensible  language  a  thousand 
things  to  him  that  were  so  important,  and  he  felt  thoroughly 
saddened  that  he  could  not  understand  their  speeches."     Old 
Wolf  in  "Genoveva"  says: 


84 

"Da  fangt  der  Rhein  an  seine  Ufer  zu  klatschen. 
So  dacht'  ich  innerlich :    ist's  doch  nicht  anders 
Als  fiihrt,  das  Wasser  mif  den  Baumen  Gesprache, 
Was  mogen  sie  sich  doch  erzahlen,  die  beiden, 
Der  alte  Rhein  und  diese  alten  Eichen?" 

From  the  sonnet  "Erstes  Finden/' 

"O  siisse  heilige  Nacht,  als  hohe  Baume 

Mit  Geisterstimmen  durch  das  Dunkel  rauschten, 

Gesprach  und  Wort  dort  mit  dem  Strome  tauschten." 

In  "Zerbino"  twigs  are  tongues  and  carry  on  conversations, 
and  in  "Vittoria  Accorombona"  each  tree  has  its  own  singing 
voice.  The  erstwhile  silent  walls  in  "Das  Donauweib"  stand 
before  the  count  as  ''Schwatzer."  So  for  all  nature:  Stern- 
bald  stands  and  listens  as  if  he  understood,  for  nature,  says 
Tieck,  "appears  indeed  to  address  us  in  a  foreign  language, 
but  we  have  a  premonition  of  the  meaning  of  her  words  and 
gladly  listen  to  her  wonderful  accents." 

But  nature  is  endowed  with  mental  as  well  as  physical  at- 
tributes. The  trees  shake  their  heads  with  an  inner  joy,  and 
nod  as  if  pious ;  the  oak-tree  is  delighted  or  solemn.  Solem- 
nity also  characterizes  the  advancing  night  and  the  stars.  In 
"Das  Reh,"  when  heaven  is  threatening  no  blade  of  grass  dares 
to  raise  its  head.  Tieck  kept  this  figure  in  mind  and  used  it 
in  "Abdallah"  of  the  field :  "The  frightened  field  did  not  dare 
to  move  under  the  scourging  hail."  In  "Magelone,"  the  time 
appointed  for  the  rendezvous  is  given  the  same  feeling.  Sim- 
ilar to  this  is  the  fear  that  the  sea  has  of  the  storm,  in  "Lov- 
ell,"  where  the  main  features  of  the  emotion  are  fright  and 
rebellion.  Individual  are  some  of  the  lesser  traits  and  human 
motives  with  which  Tieck  invests  his  nature,  as  for  example 
the  "freche  Berge"  of  Abdallah,"  or  when  the  landscape 
quietly  and  with  a  sense  of  inner  satisfaction  gazes  at  its  own 
reflection  in  the  mirror  of  the  waters,  a  motive  which  in  "Ab- 
dallah" is  given  with  a  love-touch  in  the  line,  "The  stream 
glowed  in  purple,  blushing  from  the  kiss  of  heaven."  *  The 
trees  vie  with  each  other  from  a  very  joy  of  living  as  spring 
approaches,  and  May  itself  consciously  adorns  itself  to  greet  a 

*A  transcription  of  the  old  Latin  epigram  on  the  miracle  at  Cana. 


85 

returning  traveler.  The  separate  personality  of  material  ob- 
jects, juxtaposed  and  acting  on  each  other  independently  of 
man,  is  well  brought  out  in  the  passage  from  "Der  griechische 
Kaiser :"  'There  fall  often  from  the  mountains  the  large  four- 
cornered  stones  into  the  woodland  stream.  .  .  .  Das  rennt 
mit  den  Wellen  hiniiber  und  zankt  und  grollt  mit  dem  Stein, 
schmeichelt  ihm  dann  wieder,  platschert  und  liigt  ihm  vor,  wie 
hiibsch  er  da  so  niedlich  und  friedlich  lage  keinem  Wasser- 
tropfen  im  Wege." 

Even  the  highest  human  attributes,  such  as  will  and  mem- 
ory, are  assigned  to  natural  objects.  In  the  Schildburger 
chronicle  this  ludicrous  folk  wonders  at  the  understanding  of 
a  huge  log,  which  voluntarily  hastens  to  its  destination.  Many 
other  references  are  without  a  trace  of  this  burlesque;  from 
the  poem  "Friihlingsreise,"  "Nie  vergisst  aber  Friahling  wie- 
derzukommen,"  and  in  "Genoveva,"  '*0  sieh,  die  Sonne  will 
nicht  wieder  scheinen/'  and  again,  "Der  Friihling  will  nicht 
kommen."  From  "Octavianus,"  "Die  Sonne  zeigt  dass  sie  der 
Welt  gedenkt."  There  are,  moreover,  a  number  of  places 
where  the  more  indefinite  longing  is  expressed  in  animistic 
terms.  In  "Lovell"  there  is  a  typical  case  of  a  brook  which 
without  rest  feels  itself  dragged  to  the  abyss,  a  symbol  of  Lov- 
ell's  own  unsatisfied  nature.  In  "Sternbald"  the  evening  clouds 
are  full  of  longing,  and  in  "Der  Runenberg"  the  streams  of 
water  filled  with  "Wehmuth."  In  one  of  the  Italian  poems  the 
mountains  have  a  premonition  of  the  coming  of  the  morning. 

It  is  perfectly  natural  that  the  relation  of  such  objects  to 
man  should  be  both  friendly  and  hostile,  and  so  Lini  can  anx- 
iously ask  whether  his  favorite  tree  will  know  him  when  he 
returns  to  Sulu,  and  Balder  can  write  to  Lovell :  "The  bushes 
nod  to  me  to  come  to  them  and  to  speak  a  word  with  them 
for  they  all  think  a  good  deal  of  me.  .  .  .  The  flowers  here 
would  feel  very  badly  if  I  were  to  move  away."  The  brooks 
and  flowers  lament  the  departure  of  Magelone  and  wish  her  a 
tender  farewell,  and  Sternbald  is  comforted  by  the  trees  and 
bushes  in  his  misanthropy.    It  is  to  these  that  Genoveva  cries 


86 

out  for  pity  which  in  turn  "Der  Autor"  wishes  from  the  sun. 
He  also  recollects  the  time  when  tree  and  flower  considered 
him  their  equal  and  played  with  him.  The  prolog  to 
"Magelone"  is  filled  with  the  sympathy  of  this  kind  expressed 
with  Tieck's  entire  wealth  and  vagueness  of  language.  In 
"Tod  des  Dichters"  all  nature  mourns  the  fall  of  a  kingdom 
and  in  ''Das  alte  Buch,"  Gottfried  von  Strassburg  calls  nature 
a  friend,  while  in  "Vittoria  Accorombona"  nature  takes  Vit- 
toria  by  the  hand  and  tells  her  "such  heart-felt,  touching,  in- 
spiring and  merry  things  ...  as  are  found  in  no  book  and 
no  manuscript." 

The  hostility  of  nature  is  expressed  for  example,  in  its 
anger.  Flowers  can  become  "angefeindet"  as  was  mentioned 
before;  the  grass  can  raise  itself  against  man  and  the  trees 
can  scold.  The  morning  sun  also  shines  angrily.  Christian 
in  '^^Q^X^MxiXienbeT^'  has  drawn  the  hostility  of  all  green  things 
to  himself  by  his  conduct.  Even  in  so  banal  a  story  as  "Ulrich 
der  Empfindsame,"  the  idea  crops  out  with  an  element  of 
satire ;"  .  .  .  even  inanimate  nature  rebels  against  me,  flint, 
tinder,  fuel,  waist-coat  and  satin  stockings,"  while  in 
"Klage  und  Trost"  the  very  road  is  faithless  and  leads  the 
lover  from  his  mistress.  This  enmity  can  become  so  strong 
that  Lovell  under  the  influence  of  terror  can  feel  that  the  world 
itself  holds  him  fast  and  that  all  nature  points  at  him  in  scorn. 
So,  too,  in  an  Alma  sonnet,  "Oft  will  die  Erde  mich  ziirnend 
erfassen;"  while  in  "Der  Zornige"  the  abysses  are  greedy  for 
him,  the  storm  scolds  and  the  lightning  reaches  out  to  seize 
him.  Golo,  too,  says  that  time  is  indifferent  to  our  joys  and 
sorrows  and  leads  us  into  a  fearful  labyrinth  from  which  we 
escape  as  best  we  may. 

The  favorite  aspects  under  which  Tieck  conceives  the 
world-body  are  its  sleep  and  its  awaking  from  sleep.  In  "Lov- 
ell" there  is  the  continual  effort  to  slip  from  this  being  its 
garment,  to  pry  into  its  secrets,  to  learn  the  reason  for  the  life 
lying  behind  it;  it  seems  to  be  merely  a  disguise  for  some- 
thing behind  and  that,  in  Lovell's  philosophy,  is  self.  Not 
merely  the  universal  world-soul  but  the  spirits  in  each  individ- 


87 

ual  portion  play  a  role.  So  the  fruits  and  flowers  have  a  soul, 
and  so  each  landscape.  In  the  water  there  is  a  "Wesen"  as 
in  many  another  natural  object.  These  speak  to  Athelstan's 
listening  ear  just  as  to  the  youth  in  "Thanatopsis." 

It  is  only  because  Tieck  was  so  at  home  in  such  a  nature 
that  it  did  not  rouse  in  him  more  of  that  abject  terror  that 
might  be  expected  from  one  who  presented  it  on  this  side  so 
constantly.  Conventionalities  like  the  enigma  of  the  moon- 
light, the  terror  of  the  dark  that  the  daylight  drives  away,  or 
of  woods  and  ruins,  fade  into  insignificance  before  the  reality 
of  the  interpretation  of  the  Tannhauser  saga,  or  before  the  de- 
monism  of  "D>er_bloJideJ^ckbert"  and  of  "Per  Runfn^^^g" 
This  is  the  subtle  power  of  such  novels  as  "Der  Wasser- 
mensch,"  "Der  Mondsiichtige,"  and  "Waldeinsamkeit,"  and  is 
of  importance  in  understanding  "Karl  von  Berneck."  The 
love  ravings  of  Golo  as  expressed  in  that  song  around  which 
the  whole  drama  was  written,  "Dicht  von  Felsen  eingeschlos- 
sen,"  convey  a  sense  of  abandon  to  these  forces  which 
amounts,  in  the  words  of  Hettner,  to  pure  nature  fatalism. 

It  may  in  general  be  said  that  Tieck's  attitude  shows  him 
to  be  in  a  transition  stage.  He  is  not  absolutely  on  the  plan^e 
of  the  moderns,  for  he  lays  too  much  stress  on  the  traditional 
phases  of  the  lighter  and  happier  sides  of  nature,  and  the  mood 
of  Richard  Jefferies,  "Nature  is  beautiful  always,"  is  in  the 
main  foreign  to  him ;  he  is,  however,  distinctly  modern  in  his 
antagonism  to  mere  utilitarianism  in  nature,  since  he  wished 
its  beauty  to  be  enjoyed  for  its  own  sake.  His  distinct  con- 
tribution is  a  vivid  spiritualization,  not  merely  of  the  forces 
of  nature  but  of  nature  itself. 

To  a  certain  extent  as  time  goes  on,  Tieck  progresses  be- 
yond this  in  its  most  romantic  forms,  and  there  is  discernible 
an  effort  to  leave  or  discount  all  sick  phases  of  nature-feeling, 
as  for  example  in  "Eigensinn  und  Laune."  This  story  has  a 
peculiar  interest  in  being  Tieck's  version  of  the  "Harlot's 
Progress"  and  presents  the  character  of  the  heroine  as  strong- 
ly influenced  by  her  nature-sense.    The  world  of  the  story  is 


( 


i^^^ 


88 

the  same  as  that  of  all  of  his  tales  of  real  life,  the  world  of 
the  well-to-do  mediocre  people  of  the  middle  class  or  there- 
abouts, who  bask  in  the  sun  of  aristocracy  and  who  respect  it 
as  little  as  they  care  for  those  below  them.  It  is  a  reaction- 
ary society  and  one  closed  to  new  impressions,  rigid  in  its 
prejudices,  but  capricious,  selfish  and  in  consequence,  weak. 
Into  this  milieu  Tieck  has  introduced  two  strong  ideas.  The 
first  shows  a  woman  who  has  a  distinct  distrust  of  man's  love, 
who  fears  him  because  of  his  physical  passions  and  who  is 
disgusted  by  the  fate  to  which  she  as  a  woman  must  submit. 
This  idea  Tieck  has  used  elsewhere,  but  in  Emmeline  he  has 
carried  it  farther  and  has  shown  that  not  obstinacy  and  ca- 
price are  at  the  bottom  of  her  ruin  but  a  deeper  psychological 
state,  based  on  physical  causes.  Tieck  hints  at  heredity,  but 
the  real  reason  has  its  being  in  the  roots  of  all  womanhood. 
Emmeline  is  the  natural  woman ;  she  is  the  primal  type  before 
the  new  world  of  herself,  her  ego,  dawns  upon  her  senses. 
Just  at  this  juncture,  Tieck  brings  in  his  second  idea,  namely 
the  great  influence  that  nature  has  on  the  impressionable  soul 
of  this  young  girl.  The  observation  of  the  beauties  of  natural 
scenery  awakens  her  senses  and  gives  a  new  and  feverish  im- 
pulse to  her  activities.  From  this  point  which  indicates  a  dis- 
tinct change  due  to  a  moulding  force,  she  falls,  and  nature 
has  had  its  share  in  the  work.  It  is  a  question  whether  Tieck 
saw  the  full  significance  of  these  ideas;  for  him  the  point  of 
the  story  was  rather  the  feeling  of  the  narrowness  of  a  human 
sphere,  since  Emmeline  never  comes  out  of  her  circle.  Un- 
consciously, however,  he  has  shown  a  tendency  to  depart  from 
the  over-valuation  of  the  pathological  influence  of  nature  on 
man  in  making  the  punishment  follow  on  the  wrong.  His 
sense  of  poetic  justice  did  not  desert  him. 


CONCLUSION 

The  foregoing  pages  present  no  complete  scheme  of  Tieck's 
nature  sense.  They  aim  rather  to  be  suggestive  of  Hnes  along 
which  larger  studies  of  the  whole  attitude  of  Tieck's  circle 
toward  nature  must  be  studied.  In  general  only  those  phases 
in  Tieck's  writings  are  touched  upon  which  appealed  to  the 
author  because  of  a  certain  more  universal  or  poetic  note  that 
seemed  to  run  through  them. 

The  main  results  may  be  summed  up  as  follows:  Tieck 
had  a  morbid  disposition,  but  this  did  not  prevent  him  from 
observing  and  appreciating  a  nature  with  which  he  grew  to 
be  very  well  acquainted,  but  with  which  he  personally  lived 
less  and  less  as  time  went  on.  The  truth  of  his  feeling  is  at- 
tested by  his  satire  on  mawkish  manifestations  and  by  his  ef- 
fort so  ever-recurring,  to  win  a  wide  view.  Indeed,  this  wide 
view  is  the  first  significant  feature  of  Tieck's  nature  sense 
and  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  ultimate  poetic  quality  of  his 
vision,  which  in  spite  of  each  limitation  in  his  creative  faculty 
and  each  failure  in  execution,  did  aim  to  see  life  whole. 

Besides  the  wide  view,  there  recurs  constantly  a  stress  on 
color  and  light.  It  is  the  sheen  and  shimmer  of  the  world  in 
early  spring  with  a  succession  of  bright  landscapes ;  the  flow- 
ers and  birds  appeal  to  Tieck,  and  the  fleecy  clouds  and  sun- 
light are  important  factors.  Yet  the  brightness  of  the  whole 
atmosphere  is  romantically  tempered  by  a  forest-like  still- 
ness, and  is  toned  down  by  the  mellow  golden  glow  of  the 
moon.  This  is  never  the  sharp  clear-cut  moon  of  colder, 
northern  skies. 

But  the  observation  of  such  landscapes  as  well  as  of  dark 
and  stormy  ones  by  a  man  of  Tieck's  temperament  leads  to 
more  than  a  mere  enjoyment  of  the  scene.  As  soon  as  he  re- 
flects or  lets  his  personality  play  into  the  passing  panorama, 


90 

he  sees  in  it  a  deeper  symbolism  which  he  unites  in  a  thousand 
subtle  ways  to  the  mood  o£  man.  Not  only  does  nature  be- 
come a  reflection  of  man's  spirit,  but  the  soul  of  man  is  af- 
fected by  nature  or  nature  by  man. 

So  there  comes  into  Tieck's  writings  an  atmosphere  of  what 
may  be  called  for  want  of  a  better  term,  dem^usm,  a  feeling 
of  the  vitality  of  all  nature,  and  often  with  the  additional  idea 
of  the  hostility  of  this  living  organism.  It  arises  primarily 
from  an  imag-ination  so  subtle  and  often  so  morbid  that  the 
ordinary  mind  refuses  to  follow  the  intricate  paths  to  their 
end,  just  as  in  its  sphere,  the  legerdemain  of  Tieck's  satire 
with  its  airy  fancies  is  difficult  to  grasp  and  hold. 

The  causes  of  such  demonism  are  not  to  be  found  in  a  dull 
fatalism  which  accepts  blindly  each  stroke  of  an  adverse  for- 
tune; rather  all  pessimism  and  all  fatalism  have  a  common 
origin  in  an  overwhelming  egoism  which  insists  on  its  own 
importance  in  the  universe  and  which  personifies  its  individual 
misfortunes  either  mental  or  physical,  into  contrary  powers  of 
nature  work  adversely.  So,  too,  in  Tieck,  the  demonism 
is  based  on  an  egotistic  philosophy,  and  as  his  mind  ripens  and 
includes  more  spheres  of  life,  so  this  demonism,  the  revolt 
against  the  subliminal  stream  of  the  world,  grows  less  and 
less  pronounced. 

His  pessimism,  which  after  all  is  nothing  but  the  world 
weariness  of  one  who  did  not  know  the  world,  whose  battles 
were  all  with  self  and  who  only  faintly  discerned  that  it  was  a 
shadow-life  that  he  was  leading,  gave  way  not  to  a  brutal 
cynicism  but  to  a  certain  philistine  complacency  with  the 
purely  mundane  order  of  things.  There  is  still  romance,  but 
it  is  the  romance  of  the  everyday  world,  it  is  a  perfectly  com- 
prehensible romance,  which  is  as  conventional  in  its  raptures 
as  the  appreciation  that  most  of  the  world  shows  for  art  or, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  as  the  homage  most  men  pay  to  God. 
Now  and  again  the  old  fire  bursts  forth;  it  is  as  if  the  in- 
terests, ever  the  same,  smouldered  on,  to  be  fanned  from  time 
to  time  into  a  flame.     In  the  main,  Tieck  accepted  life,  ac- 


91 

cepted  the  existing  order  of  things,  degrees,  orders,  ill  health, 
disappointment,  family  worries;  and  this  acceptance  of  life  is 
mirrored  in  his  nature-sense  which  no  longer  storms  madly  in 
revolt  against  the  ever-present  Godhead  of  the  world,  but 
which  sees  in  all  nature  a  narrow  ever-present  circle,  the  con- 
fines of  which  man  for  all  his  striving,  is  never  able  to  over- 
step. 


A  CHRONOLOGICAL  LIST  OF  TIECK'S  WRITINGS 
(so  far  as  they  are  used  in  the  present  work  ) 

1789.  Die  Sommernacht. 

1790.  Das  Reh. 
Alia  Moddin. 
Paramythien. 

Gruss  dem  Friihling  (lyric.) 
1791    Abdallah  begun. 

1792.  Der  Abschied. 
Abdallah  finished. 
First  plan  of  Lovell. 

Learns  of  the  stor^'  of  Vittoria  Accorombona. 
Der  Ungetreue   (lyric.) 

1793.  Herr  von  Fuchs. 

Adaptation  of  Shakespere's  Tempest. 
First  version  of  Karl  von  Berneck. 
The  first  two  and  part  of  the  third  book  of  Lovell. 
The  lyrics: 

Melancholic. 

Der  Egoist. 

1794.  The  third  and  fourth  books  of  Lovell  completed. 
The  lyrics : 

Der  Arme  und  die  Liebe. 

Schrecken   des   Zweifels. 

Tod. 

Blum  en. 

Spruch. 

1795.  Peter  Lebrecht. 
Karl  von  Berneck. 

First  plan  of  the  novel,  Der  junge  Tischlermeister. 
Lovell:    books  five  to  eight. 
The  lyrics : 

Trauer. 

Leben. 

Rausch  und  Wahn. 

1796.  Ninth  and  tenth  books  of  Lovell. 
Lovell  published. 

Der  Fremde. 


93 


Ulrich  der  Empfindsame. 
Der  Naturfreund, 
Ritter  Blaubart. 
Der  Blonde  Eckbert. 

Wundef^ame'  Liebesgeschichte  der   schonen   Mage- 
lone  und  des  Grafen  Peter  aus  der  Provence. 
Ein  Prolog. 

The  first  three  acts  of  Zerbino. 
First  plan  of  the  ballad,  Die  Zeichen  im  Walde. 
The  lyrics: 

;'Der  netie  Friihling. 

Nacht. 

Auf  der  Reise. 

Herbstlied. 

Morgen. 

Mittag. 

Abend. 

Sehnen  nach  Italien. 

1797.  Der  gestiefelte  Kat-er. 

Die  sieben  Weiber  des  Blaubart. 

Die  Freunde. 

Die  verkehrte  Welt. 

Herzensergiessungen  eines  kunstliebenden   Kloster- 

bruders. 
The  fourth  and  fifth  acts  of  Zerbino. 
Beginning  of  the  novel  Alma  (never  completed). 
The  lyrics: 

Sehnsucht. 

Friihlingsreise. 

Gefiihl  der  Liebe. 

Schalmeiklang. 

Posthornsschall. 

Waldhommelodie. 

Der  Dichter  und  die  Stimme. 

Verio rene  Jugend. 

Zuversicht. 

Im  Walde. 

1798.  Prinz  Zerbino. 

Franz  Sternbalds  Wanderungen. 
Phantasien  uber  die  Kunst. 

Merkwiirdige  Lebensgeschichte  Sr.  Majcstat  Abra- 
ham Tonelli. 
Das  Ungeheuer  und  der  verzauberte  Wald. 


94 

The  lyrics : 

Friihling  und  Leben. 
Wettgesang. 
Die  Phantasie. 
Andacht. 

Lied  von  der  Einsamkeit. 
Waldlied. 

Friihlings-und   Sommerlust. 
Mondscheinlied. 
Wald,  Garten,  Berg. 
Der  Jiingling  und  das  Leben. 

1799.  Genoveva. 

Der  getreue  Eckart  und  der  Tannhauser. 
Das  jiingste  Gericht. 
The  lyrics: 

Der  Trostlose. 

Andenken. 

1800.  Der  Autor. 

Twenty  sonnets  to   friends:   those  to   Novalis  and 
Wackenroder  are  especially  referred  to. 
Lebenselemente. 
Trost. 
Klage. 
Hochzeitlied. 

1801.  First  part  of  Octavianus. 
«JDfitJ8.une  nberg. 

^'Plan  of  Das  Donauweib. 
The  lyrics: 

Begeisterung. 

Die  Zeichen  im  Walde. 

1802.  Octavianus  completed    (not  published   till   1804). 
The  lyrics : 

Jagdlied. 

Die  Blumen. 

Die  Heimat. 

Gedichte  iiber  die  Musik. 

Gesang. 

Der  Garten. 

1803.  Prolog  to  the  drama  Magelone. 
The  sonnets  from  the  novel  Alma. 

Das  Wasser,  Die  Rose,  Die  Lilie,  from  Octavianus. 

1804.  Plan  of  the  story  of  the  returning  Greek  emperor. 
The  lyrics: 

Trennung. 

Trennung  und  Finden. 


95 

1805.    The  first  portion  of  the  poems  on  the  Italian  jour- 
ney. 
1806.    The  remaining  Italian  poems. 
Riickkehr  des  Genesenden. 
Improvisiertes  Lied. 
Brief  der  Minna  aus  Alma. 
Episte,  aus  Alma. 

1807.  Melusine,  dramatic  fragment. 

1808.  Das  Donauweib. 
Erstes  Finden. 

1811.    Phantasus. 

Liebeszauber. 

Die  Elfen. 

Der  Pokal. 

Leben   und   Thaten  des   kleinen   Thomas,   genannt 

Daumchen. 
Heimliche  Liebe. 
Phantasus. 
1814.    An  einen  Liebenden. 

Phantasus. 
1816.    Fortunat. 

The  lyrics: 

Klage  im  Walde. 
Des  Madchens  Klage. 
Frohsinn. 

1819.  The  printing  of  Der  junge  Tischlermeister  begins. 

1820.  The  beginning  of  "Der  Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen.'* 

1821.  Die  Gemalde. 

/    1822.     Die  Verlobung. 
Die  Reisenden. 
r  Musikalische  Leiden  und  Freuden. 

1823.  Der  Geheimnissvolle. 

1824.  Die  Gesellschaft  auf  dem  Lande. 

1825.  Dichterleben.     Part  one. 
Pietro  von  Abano. 

Poem  to  the  New  Year  1825. 

1826.  Der  Aufruhr  in  den  Cevennen. 
Gliick  gibt  Verstand. 

1826.     Poem  to  the  New  Year  1826. 

1827.  Der  fiinfzehnte  November. 

1828.  Der  Alte  vom  Berge. 
Das  Fest  zu  Kenilworth. 

1829.  Das  Zauberschloss. 
Dichterleben.     Part  two. 
Die  Wundersiichtigen. 


96 

1830.  Der  widerkehrende  griechische  Kaiser. 

1831.  Der  Jahrmarkt. 
Der  Hexensabbath. 
Der  Mondsiichtige. 

1832.  Die  Ahnenprobe. 

Epilog  zum  Andenken  Goethes. 

1833.  Eine   Sommerreise. 
Tod  des  Dichters. 

1834.  Die  Vogelscheuche. 

Das  alte  Buch  und  die  Reise  ins  Blaue  hinein. 
Der  Wassermensch. 

1835.  Eigensinn  und  Laune. 

1836.  Der  junge  Tischlermeister. 
Wunderlichkeiten. 

Die  Klausenburg. 

1839.  Der  Schutzgeist. 
Abendgesprache. 

Die  Glocke  von  Arragon. 

1840.  Waldeinsamkeit. 
Vittoria  Accorombona. 

1848.    Kritische   Schriften.     This   is   a   collection   of   the 
scattered    articles    which    T'ieck    had    written    be- 
ginning with  the  year  1793. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Adam,  Julie.    Der  Natursinn  in  der  deutschen  Dichtung.    Wien,  '06. 

Amherst,  Alicia.     History  of  Gardening  in  England.     London,  1896. 

Beers,  H.  A.     English  Romanticism.     New  York,  1901. 

Biese,  A.  Die  Entwickelung  des  Naturgefiihls  im  Mittelalter  und  in 
der  Neuzeit,     Leipzig,  1892. 

Blaze  de  Bury,  H.  Louis  Tieck:  Ecrivains  et  Poetes  de  V  Allemagne. 
Paris,  1846. 

Jakob  Boehme.     Sammtliche  Werke  (Schiebler.)    Leipzig,  1842, 

Brandes,  Georg.  Die  romantische  Schule  in  Deutschland.  Leipzig, 
1892. 

Danton,  G.  H.  Jacob  Boehme  and  the  Romantic  School  in  Germany. 
Bulletin  of  Western  Reserve  University,  Nov.,  1905. 

De  Laprade,  V.  Le  Sentiment  de  la  Nature  chez  les  Modernes. 
Paris,  1870. 

Ederheimer,  E.  Jakob  Boehme  und  die  romantische  Schule.  Hei- 
delberg, 1904. 

Friesen,  Hermann  Freilierr  von.  Ludwig  Tieck.  Erinnerungen  eines 
alten  Freundes.    Wien,  1871. 

Gallerie  des  Contemporains.  Illustres  par  un  Homme  de  Rien:  M. 
Tieck.     Paris,  without  year. 

Goethe  Gcsellschaft :  Schriften  der.  Goethe  und  die  Romantik,  in  Vol- 
umes 13  and  14.     Schiiddekopf  und  Walzel. 

Haym,  R.     Die  romantische  Schule.     Berlin,  1870. 

Hettner,  Hermann.  Die  romantische  Schule  in  ihrem  Zusammen- 
hang  mit  Goethe  und  Schiller.     Braunschweig,  1850. 

Holtei,  K.  Dreihundert  Briefe  aus  zwci  Jahrhunderten.  Hannover, 
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gram.    Bautzen,  1895. 

Koldewey,  P.     Wackenroder  und  Tieck.     Gottingen,  1903. 

Kopke,  R.    Ludwig  Tieck.    2  Bande.    Leipzig,  1855. 

Lee,  Vernon.  Euphorion.  London,  1884.  Especially  the  chapter  on 
the  "Outdoor  Poetry." 

Meissner,  W.  Ludwig  Tiecks  Lyrik.     Berlin,  1902. 

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burg, 1799. 

Tieck,  Ludwig.    Schriften.    Berlin,  1828-1854. 

Tieck  und  Wackenroder.  Werke  in  D.  N.  L.  Edited  by  J.  Minor. 
Berlin  u.  Stuttgart.  "~ 

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von  Sybel.    Erinnerungen  an  Fried,    von  Uechtritz.    Leipzig,  1884. 

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This  bibliography  does  not  claim  to  be  exhaustive.     It  contains  only 
the  titles  of  works  which  were  actually  used  and  found  serviceable. 


VITA. 

The  writer,  George  Henry  Danton,  was  born  in  New  York 
City,  May  31,  1880.  Son  of  Henry  and  Lucinda  Danton. 
Public  Schools:  New  York  City,  Lyndhurst,  Rutherford  and 
Passaic,  N.  J.  1898-1902  undergraduate  in  Columbia  Col- 
lege, New  York  City;  A.  B.,  1902.  Assistant  in  Comparative 
Literature,  Columbia  University,  1902-03.  Austin  Teaching 
Fellow  in  German,  Harvard  University,  1903-04.  Otten- 
dorfer  Memorial  Fellow,  New  York  University,  and  student 
in  Germany  1904-05.  Winter  Semester  1904-05,  Berlin. 
(Erich  Schmidt,  Roethe,  Roediger,  R.  M.  Meyer)  Spring 
Semester  1905,  Munich  (Paul,  Muncker.)  1905-1907, 
Instructor  in  German,  College  for  Women,  Western  Re- 
serve University,  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

It  is  a  privilege  to  acknowledge  a  debt  of  deep  gratitude 
to  Professors  Hervey,  W.  H.  Carpenter,  Calvin  Thomas,  A. 
V.  W.  Jackson  and  George  Edward  Woodberry  for  constant 
aid  and  inspiration  during  five  years'  residence  at  Columbia, 
and  since  that  time,  and  to  Professors  Bierwith,  Walz,  von 
Jagemann  and  Francke  for  uniform  kindness  and  help  while 
at  Harvard. 


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RETURN     CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 

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